#// on that note actually feel free to query and poke at things as if it were a game if you want | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

t-lostinworlds · 4 years

Text

Wish You Didn’t (Peter Parker)

a/n: hello, hello. here’s another angst fic as ‘tradition’ since this is my first ever full peter parker fic so yeah, please be kind alska. this is very fluffy from the start but then it’s all downhill from there lol, hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: peter parker x female reader trope/genre: song fic - Wish You Didn’t Love Me by Jake Miller; best friends to...well; fluff and angst summary: You love Peter Parker with all that you have, but somehow, he doesn't find that as a good thing. Despite feeling the same way, to protect you, Peter wish you didn't love him at all. warnings: wholesome cuteness at the start to set you up for heartbreak, brief dark thought from peter, and swearing. word count: 13.9k+ (i mean, what’s new)

masterlist on bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

"Ugh."

Peter looked up from his textbook just in time to see you drop your bag on the table and then plop yourself down on the seat across him in the library. There was a look of pure frustration on your face, his brows furrowing at the sight of the deep frown written on your lips.

"What's up?" Peter asked, twirling his pen in his fingers as he tilted his head at you in concern.

You let out a big sigh, meeting your best friend's gaze with your frown still intact. "I've got a debate coming up tomorrow," you grumbled dejectedly.

The crease between Peter's brows could only deepen at your words.

You were the best on the debate team, always at the ready to take whatever topic it was thrown at you, headstrong. You're always excited to gush to him about what could be your winning argument, what would put the opposing team at a standstill. So, to see you be somewhat upset about an upcoming debate, it was so unlike you.

Maybe because it seemed last minute but by the looks of it, Peter can't help but feel like it was more than that.

"What's it about?" he asked.

You blew out your cheeks, hand coming up to play with the notebook he had on the table before you blurted out,

"Spider-Man: Friend or Foe."

Peter cleared out his throat just as he turned the page of his book to hide it, sitting straighter in his seat, pretending to get back to reading to avoid your gaze.

He didn't tell you.

Years and years of being best friends yet you didn't have an ounce of clue that you were sitting right across the person who was going to be the topic of your debate.

Peter trusts you of course, he trusts you with his life. His reason was simple really: he just didn't want to drag you into it.

Plus, knowing how worried you can get, he just didn't want to put you through all of that, especially on top of all things college and with what's going on in your personal life. He already feels so guilty with the stress he's put May through, he can't bear to see you have that burden too.

And most importantly, Peter just wanted to protect you.

"Still don't see why you're bummed about it," he said with a shrug, gaze running over the text printed on the paper but none of it was going inside his mind.

"I got picked to defend him."

Peter's head shot up at that, eyes narrowing on your seated form as he asked, "Oh, so you think he's a foe?"

"No..." you trailed off, eyes wandering around his slightly messy table littered with notes, textbooks and books, highlighters and everything in between. "Not really."

Closing his book, Peter leaned forward, arms rested on the surface with his full attention now on you. "Care to elaborate?"

You pursed your lips, shifting in your seat as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I mean, he's probably got good intentions but I've read about the Sokovia accords you know," you started, Peter nodding to show you that he was following. "And it's a debate. The other party would do their best to make him out to be a reckless vigilante. I can already think of so many arguments that they'd throw."

"Such as?"

"That he could be doing this for fame and attention, or that he is doing good things but his drive to do them isn't exactly the best. Is it for revenge? Bragging rights or maybe something darker? Another one could be that he's young, careless and naïve. We don't know what he's really capable of superpower wise which means he can probably hurt innocent people in the future.

"Not to mention if he's on the right or wrong side of the law. Who has to pay for the collateral damages that he has caused? Is it right to let him go scot free? I could go on and on and I just," you paused, resting one arm on the table and then placing your head on it as you looked up at your best friend. "I can't really counter those things with full force because I don't really know the dude nor do I have any real, solid facts about him to back up my claim that he's completely on the good side."

"Research hasn't done you good has it?" Peter hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips as his hand came up to poke your cheek, a sweet attempt to try and rid of your frown.

You shook your head no with a deepened pout, taking his hand away from your face with your own free hand as your nimble fingers then played with his absentmindedly.

Peter's heart grew warm at the gesture.

"There's literally nothing on this spider dude aside from blog posts written by fanboys and girls gushing about how amazing he is. Which is never a great source since it's already so biased," you explained.

"What would truly help you aside from research?" he queried, eyes trained on the way you interlock your fingers together and then letting it go only for a second before interlacing them again, letting it go and repeat. It was such an adorable habit of yours, one that Peter has grown so fond of, your touch always delicate and sweet whenever you fidget with his hand.

"An interview I guess? It'd be nice to get to ask him a few questions. Like, it would help to know why I'm on his side. Get a perspective on why he does what he does, you know?" you sighed, eyes fluttering close with your frown still intact. "At least that way, I know I'm defending someone who I know is worth defending."

Peter hummed as he tore his eyes away from your intertwined hands and back on your sprawled out upper-half on the table. He pursed his lips, gaze on the dip and valleys of your beautiful but stressed face. His brain grew at odds the more he took in your deep frown—one he always hates seeing no matter the reason—as he raked his thoughts on what he could possibly do to help without having the trouble of revealing his secret to you.

"But it's genuinely impossible to talk to him—"

"You could send him an email," Peter blurted before he gave himself time to properly process his words. Hell, he didn't even get to weigh the odds and dangers of his proposition. But now that it already slipped out his mouth—

Shit. I don't think this is a good idea...

Your eyes snapped open as you gaped up at him, brows deeply furrowed as you wondered, "Spider-Man...has an email?"

Too late to back out now, Parker.

"Well, all the Avengers do, under Stark Industries to be specific," Peter said in the most nonchalant way he can muster. "Since, you know, Stark tech in their suits, modifications, upgrades, what color they want it as, etcetera, it's how they talk about those stuff."

You abruptly sat up, dropping his hand as you laid both of your palms flat on the table, eyes now twinkling with hope and excitement. "You think he'd actually see it?"

"Yeah, not many people know about it so," he trailed off with a shrug, opening his book again and flicking through the pages.

You leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze as you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. "How'd you know?"

Peter scoffed with a shake of his head, never looking away from his book given that you'd notice his lie right off the bat if he does so. "I don't know Y/N, probably because I work there," he pointed out. Well, technically it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either.

"And you're giving me it?"

He shrugged, finally meeting your gaze. "I don't see why not? As long as you don't share it around or sell it," Peter warned, shooting you playful glare.

"Yes! Oh my—you are the best," you exclaimed excitedly, jumping out of your seat and rounding the table to give him a back hug. "You're a lifesaver Pete, thank you." With one last squeeze, you pulled away and swiftly snatched your bag, feet in a rush as you treaded towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked bemusedly.

"Sending the email! Hopefully I can talk to him tonight!" you called back to him.

Peter can't help but shake his head at you with a laugh, "I haven't even given you the email!"

"Just send—"

Sssh!

"Oops, sorry," you whispered, finger over your lips as you rushed back to his side with a bright smile. "Just text me it please? Love you," you hummed, hand landing on his shoulder as you leaned down to place a swift but sweet kiss on his cheek.

The skin where your lips once were quickly turned pink, Peter's heart skipping countless beats at that four-letter word, unable to conjure any response the more he thinks about the actual weight of the warmth that's grown in his chest. He's heard you say it to him many times before of course, but despite holding a different meaning—one with friendship laced around it—it never fails to make Peter's heart soar.

Albeit wanting it to mean something else, something more, Peter knows he shouldn't. Always quick to silence his heart on screaming for more given that it wasn't ideal, for your sake. He always reminds himself that he already feels utmost content with what he has with you now, content with the love you make him feel even if it's only to an extent.

It was enough, for your sake.

Nothing but adoration coated his features as his eyes followed your every movement. His heart grew even more when you beamed at him once you pulled away, ruffling his hair playfully before hurrying out of the library, shooting him one last smile and a wave before disappearing from sight.

Peter can't wipe his own grin off his face, just the sight of your beautiful smile and your joyful eyes, easily contagious on his part. But then realization dawned on him and the curve slipped away, replaced by a frown laced with panic as he pulled out his phone to check the time.

"Shit."

He quickly gathered up his things and rushed out of the library, taking the back door out of the building to the nearest alley. Peter had his eyes glued to his screen the whole time as he quickly made a fake but believable enough email before sending it to you.

***

"Heard you were looking for me?"

You let out a yelp, jumping a few inches back as you spun around towards the direction of the voice. A hand flew over your chest the moment your eyes landed on a figure, shock befalling you as you froze. He was squatted down on the ledge of the rooftop of your apartment building, red and blue faint under the night sky. "Oh my—uh, hi," you squeaked, eyes blinking rapidly to see if what you're seeing was actually real.

The wind was blowing cold, your black pants, plain t-shirt and jean jacket doing just enough to minimize it. The sound of the streets of Manhattan was echoing below, very busy but faint due to your distance from the ground, enabling you to still hear his voice loud and clear when he spoke again.

"Hi, I'm Spider-Man," he introduced as he offered you his hand, masked eyes trained on you as you cautiously walked towards him.

"I know. I'm Y/N," you said, hesitantly reaching out to take his hand, the material of his suit rough against your palm as you shook it. You were in absolute awestruck, eyes glowing with wonder as you did nothing but gape at him.

"I know," he said and you can practically hear his smile behind the mask. He gave your hand a squeeze, the odd feeling that coursed through your bones made you tilt your head at him in mere curiosity, brows furrowed in utter confusion. Mr. Spider-Man swiftly cleared out his throat, eyes casted down as he quickly let go of your hand. "It's on your email," he added hastily.

"Oh, yeah," you muttered. A few seconds passed and you just stood there, staring at him like some star struck fan as you rubbed your hands together in both the cold and slight nerves. After a few seconds more, you finally spoke, "Wow, okay, I didn't expect for you to actually show up."

You don't know where to actually begin.

The first thought you had after sending the email was that he'd never actually see it, or if he does, he'll simply ignore it. You had been ready to wait out in the cold for a couple hours, anticipated the letdown to be frank. Yet here he was, the Spider-Man, right in front of you who, amazingly, even arrived right on time.

Spider-Man was making you nervous.

Normally, you have no problem with doing interviews. It is a form of research after all, and being on the debate team, you've done countless of it. But right now feels different.

Maybe it was the fact that he was a fucking superhero. He's someone who has actually done quite a lot and has probably seen and experienced other worldly things just as much if not more. Or maybe it's the fact that you simply don't know where this will go from here.

Will it do well that you'd get to ask proper questions and get answers that would truly help or will he get cocky and rude that this interaction would only end up being a waste of time?

Despite being famous, he was a complete mystery to everyone. The person behind the mask was wholly unknown and that itself makes you very nervous.

With a shrug, he said, "Well, wouldn't pass helping a friend."

"Are you making your voice deep?" you asked, the sound of his voice a little too...computerized for it to be normal.

He nodded. "Voice modulator, it helps keep my secret identity, well, a secret."

"Oh, yeah, figured."

You stayed quiet again after that, arms crossing over your chest as you kept your gaze steady on him, features coated with a mixture of emotions from confusion, amazement, curiosity and everything in between.

He chuckled softly, probably noticing your painfully obvious shyness. "Got questions for me?" he prodded.

You blinked a few times before frantically nodding, recalling how you specifically said in the email that you just wanted to ask a few questions. You then took out your phone, showing him the voice recording app and asked, "Is this okay?"

Spider-Man tilted his head at you with a soft hum.

"Yeah, I trust you with it."

You smiled.

The pressure and nerves turned lighter on your shoulders as you somewhat felt more comfortable...safe around him. And there's just something about the fact that he trusts you that warms your bones. It's like he's certain you only have his best intentions in mind, as if he knows you weren't in this for a selfish gain. It's really comforting in a sense, makes you feel confident that you're on the right track.

It makes you feel good about yourself.

With a soft nod, you hit record, words of curiosity slipping out of your lips soon after. "Those webs, do they come out from you?"

"No, they don't," he chuckled, taking out a vile from his wrist and then handing it to you. "That is what you call web fluid and I make them."

You gingerly took it in your hands, eyes scanning it briefly before you gave it back. "Impressive."

"Thanks. So, the fluid is like the bullets and these right here"—he showed you the black bands on his wrists with his hands open—"Are the web shooters that make me well, shoot webs. Like so," he explained as he pressed the button on his palm, the webs streaming out soon after and snatching an empty can on the far corner before it landed back in his hand.

You pursed your lips with a nod. "So, you can make weapons," you said with a certain tone in your voice that caused him to shift in his place.

"I—uh, no?" he stuttered, placing the can back on the ground loudly and in a not-so-subtle way. "I will never build a nuclear bomb if that's what you're wondering," he rushed when you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion.

"Didn't say anything about a nuclear bomb," you pointed out with a tilt of your head.

"I-I'm, uh, I didn't—"

"I'm just messing with you," you cut him off with a soft laugh, your nerves diminishing swiftly at how he seemed to be a little shy and awkward but in an endearing way. It makes him appear more human, normal. "You're so tense, just relax."

"Yeah…okay," he breathed out. He turned around to face the city, going from crouching to fully sitting down on the ledge, hands folding on his thighs as he looked at you over his shoulder. He jerked his head, gesturing for you to come closer to which you gladly did.

You leaned on the concrete with soft hum, placing your phone beside his thigh so it was now between you both. You scanned the beautiful city with a content smile, the view never ceasing to amaze you despite seeing it too many times before. The rooftop is your best escape after all. It was nice to be far away from everything, even if it's only for a moment. Nothing but peace coats you whenever you're up here, may it be from the gentle gush of the wind or the bright shine of the moon that spreads throughout the blanket of black sky.

With a sigh, you looked up at the mask man beside you. Flustered was what you came to be when you noticed that he was already staring at your face, the white and black of his eyes looking somewhat soft, and you swear he looked almost as if he's smiling behind the mask. Warmth was quick to coat your body, a stark contrast to the cold breeze as you cleared your throat, causing him to swiftly look away.

"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous," he chuckled shyly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Really want to impress you."

You felt your cheeks heat up, a timid smile growing on your lips as you shrugged. "No need to impress anyone, let alone me," you said. "Just be yourself Spider-Man."

Oh, I truly wish I could just be myself right now Y/N—

"Okay," Peter hummed with a smile.

"Are you sure this is fine?" you asked, gesturing towards your phone in the middle of you two. "I don't want to intrude or make you feel uncomfortable by recording our conversation."

Peter's heart grew warm as his smile widened. Always considerate you are, too kind for your own good. If it was someone else, he probably would've had loads of pictures taken by now. Or maybe even a hidden camera somewhere to catch him at the wrong moment. Many of which would then be posted on the internet to spread like wildfire. Not that he minded the photos and videos but it's off putting sometimes, especially when they churn out not-so-good headlines to match.

"Promise me you won't share or sell it?" he joked, mentally cursing himself soon after once he realized it's the same words he said to you earlier in the library. Although he felt a wash of relief right away when you didn't seem to notice as you only flashed him a sweet smile in return.

"I promise," you hummed, turning to face him as you leaned sideways on the ledge. "What other superpowers do you have?"

"Enhanced abilities such as super strength, I can run fast and heal fast. Dialed up senses meaning I can see, hear, smell and feel things on another level. I'm...sticky, meaning I can climb up walls and stick to stuff like how a spider would. And oh, spider sense," Peter elaborated, watching with amusement as he saw your eyes change from awe, confusion, to impressed and back to confusion.

"Spider sense?"

"I can sense danger and threats when it's coming, like I feel a tingle."

"That's really cool," you hummed, hand rapidly lifting up as you took a fast and big swing towards his shoulder. He caught your fist in his hand way before you could even have the chance to land a punch.

Peter shook his head at you in pure amusement, giving your fist a squeeze before he let it go. "That wasn't so successful now was it?" he chuckled.

"It was worth a try. Just testing the waters to see if it would trigger your 'spidey sense' as you call it," you laughed, quoting the two words with your fingers teasingly.

"It didn't because one, anyone could see that punch from a mile away, and two, I said dangers and threats," he paused, tilting his head at you adoringly. "And you're not really a threat."

"Hey, I can be threatening," you scoffed, chin up with your chest puffed out.

Peter couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips. "I'm sure you can. I bet you can handle yourself well, especially with proper training." He took in a deep breath before saying, "But that's not really what I meant."

"What did you mean?

"That I feel safe around you."

"Oh." You blinked at him a few times before you fully broke his gaze, suddenly turning bashful as your eyes watched the busy street below where the cars and people were scurrying about in the cold New York night. Squaring your shoulders, you added, "Well, for what it's worth, I feel safer around you now too."

Peter felt his heart leap out of his chest, a proud smile erupting on his face, gaze dropping on the ground—or lack thereof—shyly as red started to dust his cheeks. "That's worth a lot," he hummed, lifting his head at the same time you did, your eyes locking immediately.

You beamed at him sweetly, shifting on your feet before letting out a breath. "Right, onto a more serious question," you paused, gesturing at the whole of him with your hand. "Why exactly are you doing this?"

"What do you think is the reason why I'm doing what I do?" he asked back, eyes trained on your face for a moment before he looked straight ahead. He can feel your orbs burning a hole on the side of his face, your brows furrowed in a way that Peter could do nothing but grin widely. He always found your thinking face endearing.

"I don't know, could be a lot of things. Could be money, glory, revenge, bragging rights, most likely fame?" you suggested.

Peter shook his head, keeping his gaze on the building across. "If I was doing this for fame, you'd think I would've shown my face by now?"

"Touché."

"But no," he breathed out, eyes now trained on his feet as he swung them aimlessly on the edge of the building. "I just want to help to the best of my abilities. I feel like I was given these powers, me, for a reason. If I'm not going to use it for a good cause then what's the point of having them?" Peter turned to face you, holding your gaze securely, even behind the mask as he continued, "If I'm not going to help out the little guy, even if I can easily do that then, who will? I can't simply watch the world fall apart when I could've done something to prevent it or provided a little bit of help, you know?"

You nodded. "With great power comes great responsibility."

Peter cracked a smile. "Yeah, exactly," he hummed, gaze dropping to stare at his gloved hands, turning it over before clasping it together with a sigh.

"How do you feel about the people who think you're not on the good side? That you have some hidden agenda?"

"I pity them if I'm being honest."

"How so?"

"I mean, if you're at a point in life where you can't accept that someone is helping simply for the sake of helping, then you've must've gone through a lot to not trust easily," Peter started, fingers fidgeting with his web shooters before he met your gaze. "We've been taught to always think that there's an incentive in all that we do. If you give, you have to receive and vice versa. But why can't we simply give and not expect something in return? People are so accustomed to the whole give and take thing that when someone just gives, it feels unfamiliar. That's why they get suspicious. They overthink that surely I'm doing this for something else when there's really no other reason than simply wanting to help.

"I also get it. It's a cruel world we're living in unfortunately where we have to keep one eye open. But I wish people would begin to accept that someone is helping to make the world a better place by simply wanting to have a safe and better place. No hidden agenda whatsoever," he finished, brown orbs catching sight of how your smile grew wider, brighter.

"You're a wise man," you said with an appreciative nod. "With a really good heart too."

"Thanks. I try my best."

"I'd say you've probably lived a life, traveled the world, seen so many new things, been to space," you trailed off, raising a brow at him in question.

"Yeah, you could say that," he chuckled.

"Are you a billionaire? Are you a prince in disguise or maybe a king? Are you a lawyer? Or maybe some kind of mythical being like Thor?" you poked.

Peter laughed, shaking his head as he shrugged. "Nah, I'm just a kid from Queens."

Shit.

Peter you fucking idiot. You absolute dumbass—

"Huh, I've got a best friend who's from Queens," you muttered, voice barely above a whisper but thanks to his enhanced hearing abilities, of course he heard it loud and clear.

Peter bit the insides of his cheek to stop his smile, even though you weren't going to see it anyway since he has a mask on. I know you do. "Come on, I want to show you something," he said aloud instead, standing up to his full height with his hand out for you to take.

You narrowed your eyes at his outstretched palm before you looked up at his masked face. "Are you going to kidnap me now and sell my organs?"

Peter threw his head back with a hearty laugh, the sound ringing in the air as he shook his head at you. "No, I'm going to show you New York from a different angle," he said, smiling widely as he leaned over closer, hand open wide. "Do you trust me?"

"You did not just quote Aladdin," you laughed, taking your phone off the ledge to stop recording before shoving it in your pocket.

Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "What if I did?"

You smiled widely at that, placing your hand securely in his and giving it squeeze. "Then yes, I trust you."

Peter hoisted you up on the ledge with ease, both of you now standing side by side on the edge of the building. A small squeak came out of you when you curiously looked down and saw that the ground was actually very far away, your grip on his hand tightening when all you could think of was splat. He chuckled, moving closer to you as he lifted your arm and placed it over his shoulders, your eyes snapping back up to look at his masked face.

"Is this okay?" he hummed, his arm wrapping around your waist strongly once you gave him a nod approval. "Hold tight," Peter said.

"Please don't let me go," you whispered, worry-filled eyes boring into his own while a mixture of both nervousness and excitement coated your features.

"Never."

Peter jumped.

You screamed.

The strong gush of the wind swiftly hit your face, hair whipping around as your grip around him tightened starkly. You felt your stomach churn while you swung in the air, passing one building to another, going high up and then dropping back down in a swooping motion. Your legs wrapped itself around his waist almost instinctively, all in fear of falling to your death.

"This was a bad idea!" you screeched, head buried on the crook of his neck, eyes shut tight ever since your feet left the ledge.

"Open those eyes Y/N! You're missing all the fun!" Peter laughed, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. He felt you slowly pull your head away from his neck, lids inching open one by one until you finally gawked at the wonderful lights and blaring colors of the city in awe.

Your mouth fell agape the more you took the sight in, the city a blur but somewhat beautiful in its own unique way. You loosened your grip around his shoulder just so you could lift a hand up in the air, a satisfied hum vibrating in your chest as you felt the cold wind brush through your fingertips in the most comforting way.

That's when you let out a gleeful laugh.

Peter felt his heart melt ten times over at the beautiful sound. His cheeks were hurting from grinning ear to ear the more he took in how you're having the best time.

You looked absolutely breathtaking, the city lights casting a glow over your features, eyes holding nothing but pure bliss and wonder with that lovely, bright smile of yours to match.

The city was pretty sure, Peter loves seeing it at night whenever he does his patrol. But you, you were gorgeous, a stunning sight that he could never ever have enough of. You never do fail to make his heart stop, never fail to take his breath away, never fail to make his limbs all weak and Peter found himself falling deeper despite trying his hardest not to.

"This is so cool—no!" you shrieked, eyes wide with fear as you shot high up midair and went free falling for a few horrifying seconds before you landed back into his embrace, slotting right into his chest. Peter laughed as you quickly went to latch onto him, your grip viselike with both arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. He wrapped an arm around you securely as his other hand held tightly on the web, both of you now face to face as you continued to swing in the air.

You lifted your head up to look at him fully, faces now inches apart as you stared right into each other's eyes. Peter felt his heartbeat quicken when your orbs held a certain spark, as if you could see the actual him right behind the mask. His eyes fell on your lips, slightly parted as you gawked at him. They look really soft, very pretty, inviting.

He gulped.

At that point Peter wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed that he was wearing a mask. Because if he wasn't, then he would've already done something he might regret—or not—later on, especially with the consequences that would come with it.

But when you opened your mouth to start to speak, that's when Peter grew even more nervous on what could possibly be running in your thoughts.

Did you figure it out?

You didn't get a chance to say whatever it was you wanted to say when all movements stopped, Peter releasing you from his hold right as you felt your feet touch the ground.

"That was mean," you said once you gently pulled away from him. "You said you wouldn't let me go," you added, adjusting your hair and clothes before you shot him a pout.

"I'm sorry, I got a little distracted," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. It was a full on accident, mind preoccupied by all things you that he unconsciously loosened his grip around your waist which in turn, made you slip out of his grasp. "I'll always catch you though."

You pursed your lips at him with a tilt of your head. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you're flirting with me, Spider-Man."

Peter felt the heat rush up to his face in a split second. "I-I'm, uh—"

"Whoa," you cut him off once your eyes landed on the gorgeous city of Manhattan but much farther away and wider as you stood on a much higher building. The tall structures that surrounded the scene seemed like toys with their size, the lights that gleamed looking like little specks of stars floating in the air with the Empire State Building right at the middle of it all. "I haven't seen it this high up before," you said, giving him a swift glance before your eyes were back on the scenery. "It's really beautiful."

"Yeah, very beautiful," Peter sighed, brown orbs never leaving your features, his heart thumping in his chest, loud and fast, each beat all for you.

He walked over to where you were stood until your arms were brushing against each other. You spared him a glance, your smile wide and soft in a way that made his heart grow warm. But then you leaned your head on his shoulder and Peter swore he might as well die from a heart attack. If it were you with the enhanced senses, then you would probably catch him out quickly with how frantic and loud each beat his heart was making.

It wasn't new to him of course. You've always been the affectionate kind. And being your best friend, he's always at the receiving end of those affections.

But tonight feels a little different.

The fact that you feel safe around him without having to see his face, when all you see is Spider-Man, it makes his heart melt. The simple fact that you're comfortable when you're near him, that you can feel that you can trust him is really reassuring in a sense. It's like your heart is already familiar with who he is despite your brain—or your eyes—telling you that the person you're standing with right now is a complete stranger.

It feels really special when looking at it in that perspective, it makes Peter feel special.

Sudden boldness coursing through his bones, Peter snaked an arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze in the process. It took every ounce of his superhuman strength to keep his legs upright when you inched closer to his side, a soft breath coming out of you, a satisfied one. His eyes glowed with utmost adoration as it traced your features, from the soft smile playing on your lips to the twinkle in those irises as you kept your gaze on the stunning city in front. It baffles him how his heart quickened it's pace even more, just the sight of you in pure bliss. God he was so in love with you and you don't even have an ounce of clue.

Just say it out loud, tell her.

No, I can't. For her, I can't.

"It's getting late. I should probably head back home," you hummed, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. Peter nodded, arm dropping to your waist as he crouched down a little, just so you could sling an arm around his shoulder. "No dropping me this time," you warned, narrowing your eyes at him teasingly.

Peter laughed with a nod. "Yes ma'am."

The swing back to your apartment building took no time.

Despite wanting to drag the night out a little longer, Peter knew he can't do that to you when your debate was tomorrow, especially among countless papers and homework he knows you need to get to. Plus, he has his own errands he needs to tend to as well. Both of you landed on the ledge smoothly with you laughing at some bad joke he made. Peter helped you down like the gentle man that he is and giving your hand one last squeeze before he lets it go.

"Thank you for tonight," you said as you turned to his figure that remained standing on the ledge. Nothing but a wide, genuine smile played on your lips as you added, "Everything of tonight."

"Don't mention it," Peter said sweetly. "I had a really great time with you—shit. I hope that doesn't sound creepy or anything but I really did enjoy tonight, you know, our conversation, getting close with you and feeling you close to me while we were swinging...okay, I'll stop talking."

You let out the sweetest giggle that Peter could do nothing but swoon, his eyes softening as he tilted his head at you with the most adoring smile he could ever have the pleasure of wearing.

"I had a great time being close with you, too," you hummed, holding his gaze for a moment before you casted your eyes at the ground shyly. Shifting from your heels and toes, you pointed towards the rooftop door, before timidly meeting his eyes again. "I should probably—"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Peter chuckled, shooting you a curt nod. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Spider-Man," you said, swiftly turning around as you went towards the door, giving him one last glance over your shoulder when you pulled it open. He gave you a wave in response, your smile widening before you slipped inside and closed the door right behind you.

Peter had the stupidest, most shit-eating grin on his face that he don't think he could ever wipe off, eyes fluttering close as he spread his arms wide. With a satisfied breath, he slowly leaned backwards, letting gravity take its course as pure euphoria coated every fiber of his being.

Never has he ever felt such joy, freedom and utmost content as Peter lets himself fall.

***

"Hello there."

Peter looked up from his notes only to be met by a set of green eyes, completely taking him by surprise since it wasn't the pair of orbs he was expecting—and really excited—to see. It confused him to the core as to why one of the most popular girls on campus was sitting down right in front of him in the library.

"Hi?" he said, word coming out more as a question than a statement as he furrowed his brows.

"Peter right? Marjorie," she introduced, hand coming across the table to which he shook gingerly.

"Yeah, that's me." Peter smiled shyly, the crease on his forehead deepening the more he raked his brain as to why she's talking to him in the first place. Of course he knows who she is, the whole school does. Hell, he can already hear the whispers of gossip echoing about all because she's sitting right at his table, or as a matter of fact, simply because she's in the room. That's how big of a deal she is.

Marjorie moved forward, both her arms resting on the table with her bust right on top of it, the low cut top she wore doing so little to hide it, cleavage right up his face. Peter was quick to look away with a clear of his throat, eyes trained on his notes as a blush coated his cheeks.

She suddenly brought two fingers under his chin, prompting him to look back up. "Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you pretty boy," she purred, a sly smirk growing on her lips when his blush deepened. She inched closer until she was fully leaning over the table and into his space, her thumb running across his chin teasingly. Peter's eyes grew wide in downright surprise and confusion, keeping his gaze locked with hers and never looking anywhere else—mostly not looking down—as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Anyway, I heard you're really smart and I happen to find you really cute too. Not just a pretty face, aren't you Peter. So, I was wondering—"

Peter could feel you coming, hear you even, that all too familiar sound of your giddy and specifically patterned footsteps ringing in his ears. And dare he say it, he could smell your shampoo, the scent gradually growing stronger which was a clear indication that you were getting closer to the library.

He was left downright confused when you only stopped at the door, your heartbeat quickening by a mile as you stilled. Peter grew worried at the uneven sound of your breathing, all shallow and labored, the first thing that happens whenever you're in slight panic. He removed his eyes briefly from the girl across him only to see you turn on your heel in one swift motion and then completely disappearing from sight.

What was wrong? Where were you going?

"I, uh, I'm really sorry but I need to go." Peter quickly pulled his face away from Marjorie's hand, standing up from his seat all while shoving his things in his backpack. "I-It was nice meeting you," he said with a small smile before he sprinted towards the door.

He didn't see you anywhere near the building, didn't see you anywhere on campus at all.

It worried him even more when you ignored his texts and calls for the rest of the day. He knew your schedule but somehow, the moment he reached your class, you were already gone. Or maybe you hadn't even attended class in the first place. There was no other way of him knowing your whereabouts and he was growing really concerned by the second as to what had happened. So, he went with the last option he could think of on finding you quicker.

Peter slipped his mask on with a sigh, the sun already going down when he decided to try and pay you a visit in a very different set of clothes.

***

"Hi."

"What the fu—" You jumped with a yelp as you swiftly turned to face him, hand over your chest to try and calm your heart as you gaped at his masked face. "What are you doing here?"

Three times he's passed your apartment building and you weren't home. But by the fourth try, Peter's worry could only grow some more when he saw you out on the rooftop. You never stay out on the rooftop unless something was deeply bothering you.

"Wanted to know how the debate went," Peter reasoned, not the main agenda but it wasn't entirely a lie either.

"Well, my team won so that's great," you sighed dejectedly, leaning down to rest your elbow on the ledge while your chin landed on your palm.

"You don't seem enthusiastic? You still don't think I'm a friend?"

"No, no, I do now. It's just things in here." You tapped your temple, letting out another sigh when you brought your finger down to your chest, right where your heart is supposed to be and added, "Or in here rather."

Peter frowned. "What's up?"

"Who knew Spider-Man was into gossip," you teased, turning to flash him a small smile.

"Just curios," he hummed with a casual shrugged, settling himself down on the ledge, facing you this time around. "Besides, it's always better to let it out."

"It's just boy problems," you breathed out, eyes back on the orange tinted sky.

Peter felt a lump grow in his throat, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of you thinking about another guy. He was quick to scold himself, telling his mind not to be selfish as he cleared his throat.

"Hit me."

"Well, there's this boy I like—" you stopped yourself, lips pursed as you started to fidget with your fingers, thinking face that Peter knows so well now in full play. "Actually no, I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember," you admitted.

The ache in Peter's heart grew sharper, painful and overwhelming that he felt his body run cold. His throat grew dry that he could do nothing but nod his head with a hum to tell you he's still following.

"He's amazing, greatest guy I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and he has never failed to show that he cares about me. He's always there for me, whenever he can anyway with his hectic life. And he makes me really happy." A love-struck smile grew on your lips, eyes glowing with adoration, face holding that look of love as you bask in the sunset. The golden glow made you look even more stunning, but Peter wasn't able to fully appreciate your beauty when his mind was too preoccupied with jealous thoughts. But a second later, the joy that's coated your features slowly faded off, now replaced by one with worry.

Peter tried his best to keep his tone steady. Despite having the voice modulator on, he knows it will pick up even the slightest shake and uncertainty. "But?"

"I truly can't figure out if he's acting the way he is because he feels the same way or all of it is just an act of friendship," you paused, taking in a deep breath as you shifted on your feet. "There are moments where I do think it's more but then there are moments where I see him with another girl and I start questioning it again. Like, am I reading things wrong? Am I getting too ahead of myself by thinking he could possibly feel the same way?" You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "I don't even know how to convey my own feelings—"

"You could just tell him," Peter blurted to cut you off, not wanting to hear any more as the piercing pain in his chest could only deepen the more you talk about it. He's already got the drift anyway, no need for you to explain any further.

You turned to look at him fully with furrowed brows. "Just like that?"

Peter nodded. "You are an amazing girl Y/N," he said, nothing but utmost sincerity coating his voice. He just wants you to find someone who's going to make you happy and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. It seems like you've found exactly that, who was he to take that away from you by being bitter? Besides, Peter has long accepted that that someone is never going to be him. "Whoever this guy you're in love with, he's pretty lucky. If he doesn't see that then it's his loss. And if he doesn't feel the same way, then he's not the right guy for you because you deserve someone who'll love you unconditionally."

"You giving out relationship advice now too? A sideline if you're not saving the world?" you joked, only earning a shrug and a soft laugh from him. "But thank you." You flashed him a small but grateful smile.

"Always happy to help," he said. "I better get going, got a city to look after." Peter forced a smile, a useless tactic given that there was no way for you to see it anyway. He stood up to his full height before adding, "Congrats on the debate." He didn't even wait for a response when he swiftly jumped and swung as far away from your building as possible.

The second he landed on top of an abandoned warehouse, Peter immediately pulled his mask off. He couldn’t bear to leave it on a second longer or else he was going to suffocate. Sharp breaths escaped him as his back hit the brick wall, eyes screwed shut to stop any tear from slipping out of his burning eyes. He tried his hardest to calm his frantic heart, to minimize the pain by shoving his selfish thoughts away. He forced himself to think about you and your well-being instead, tried to convince himself that this was a good thing.

He doesn't doubt that this guy you're smitten with is a great one. The way you speak about him just screams it. Add that to you being great at judging character, then he knows you're in good hands. Despite it hurting like a ton of punches in the chest, Peter still hoped that whoever this guy is, he'll catch you in his arms openly and shower you with the truest love because you deserve nothing but. The pain would be worth it if he gets to see you be happy.

Peter knows that whoever this guy is, he would treat you rightly, give you everything you want and need in a way that Peter never could.

Slowly opening his eyes, he lets out a calming breath, mind slowly slipping at ease the more he thinks about how happy, content and safe you'll be with this guy if ever it will work out.

It hurts, unbearably, but his sliver of pain in exchange for your utmost happiness? Then Peter will gladly endure it.

***

The next day, Saturday noon, was when you finally decided to answer Peter's texts from the day before. You apologized for ghosting him, said you got preoccupied and left it at that. And then you asked if he wanted to go for a little stroll in the park, too make it up to him. Peter could never say no to you so here you were, side by side under the afternoon sun, aimlessly walking around a nearly deserted park outskirts of the main city.

"Why'd you disappear yesterday?" he asked, both his hands in his pockets while yours were looped in his. "I saw you stop by at the library but you didn't come and say hi."

You shrugged, eyes trained on the pavement as you kicked at the few rocks that were lying around. "Something came up," you simply said.

Peter can't help but feel a little sting when you didn't elaborate further. Well, he already knew what had happened but that was as Spider-Man. He was hoping you'd tell him too, as Peter Parker, your long time best friend.

"Thank you for the email by the way," you spoke again when he stayed quiet, lifting your head up to spare him a bright smile. "We wouldn't have won the debate if it wasn't for you."

"Winning the debate was all on you and that incredible brain of yours. I'm not going to take credit for that," he chuckled as he shot you a knowing look. Eyes back in front, Peter added, "But I'm always here to help. That's what best friends are for."

You hummed, letting go of his arm as you skipped ahead and treaded towards the nearest tree. "What's up with you and Marjorie?" you asked, settling down on the grass, legs straight with your right ankle over you left as you leaned back against the trunk comfortably.

"What's up with what?" Peter followed you with a deep crease between his brows, sitting right beside you soon after, mirroring your position under the shade.

"You tell me, you were almost kissing when I saw you in the library so," you trailed off, picking at the shreds of greenery, throwing it purposelessly as you still avoided his gaze. "Are you two a thing now?"

Peter shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "First off, we were not almost kissing and second, no, we're not a thing," he clarified, head turned for him to see you clearly. "I didn't even get to hear what she wanted because I immediately left," he chuckled.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his. "You bailed on her in the library?"

"Sort of?" Peter scrunched his nose.

"That's a very bold move, Parker," you giggled, bumping your shoulder with his teasingly. "Most guys would've died to just be in the same room as her."

Peter let out a hearty laugh, shrugging his shoulders and said, "Well, I guess I'm not like most guys."

Marjorie was pretty, Peter won't deny that, but she could never amount to you. Even right now, when you're just sitting beside him in casual jeans and sweater, a simple but very charming smile on your lips as you looked up at the clouds, Peter was already swooning ten times over. Then comes the memory of you looking so breathtaking while he took you around the city. The stunning glow on your face as you stared at the scene in awe was still deeply engraved in Peter's mind, and he knows for a fact that that image will never leave him. Not that he was complaining anyway.

"So, how did your meeting with Spider-Man go?" he asked after a few moments of silence. A shy smile slowly grew on your lips, one that made Peter lift a brow at you in suspicion.

"He's really cool," you breathed out, your grin growing wider as you kept your gaze steadily trained at the blue sky. "He's a gentleman too, a little shy and awkward but in a cute way. Plus, very wise and smart, like lived-a-life wise and genius smart. He then took me to swing around the city which was awesome," you gushed, a dreamy glow coating your face as you met Peter's eyes. "That night is going to be a night I'll remember for the rest of my life for sure."

Peter couldn't help the smug grin that grew on his face. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you have a crush on Spider-Man," he teased, wriggling his brows at you.

"Shut up," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

"It's obvious. You have that dreamy look on your face when you talk about him," he poked even more, nudging you with his elbow playfully.

"No, I don't," you laughed as you pushed him away. "Besides, I've got my eyes on someone else already."

Peter's heart sunk.

He found himself playing with the sleeves of his hoodie as he avoided your gaze, trying his hardest to keep his feelings at bay before you'd notice the change in his demeanor. "Care to share with your best friend?" he offered, wondering if you're finally willing to tell him about this mystery guy.

You stayed quiet, eyes fluttering close as you rested your head on his shoulder. Peter kept his gaze steady on you, everything else silent aside from the sound of the rustling leaves of the tree. But then you let out a nervous breath, heartbeat picking up the pace in a way that made Peter grow curious as to what's on your mind.

"I love you," you blurted out of the blue, a slight shake in your voice as you kept your eyes shut.

Although confused, Peter responded, "I love you too—"

"No, Peter," you paused, shifting in your place, pulling away from him as you sat up straighter. You finally met his brown orbs, all while countless of emotions swam in yours. "I love you," you whispered but with your voice firm and laced with pure sincerity, eyes holding his with such intensity that he quickly understood.

Peter stared at you in shock.

Slowly, but surely, everything started to click inside his head. The confession you shared with Spider-Man. When you said you'd seen this guy with another girl...the library. Was that why you quickly ran out? When you saw...almost kissing. Was that the reason why your heart suddenly grew at panic?

The guy you were gushing about so fondly, the same one you said you were in love with for a long time now, the one Peter was growing jealous of...it was him.

You were talking about him, Peter Parker.

He grew at a loss for words as he gawked at you, a smile growing on his lips as he felt his heart stop its course and then beat again but with twice the pace. Peter was so happy, over the universe as pure warmth filled him up from head to toe. The mere thought that you felt the same, it was too good to be true. But it was, he can see it clear in your eyes, it was real.

You love him.

But then his mood was quick to shift, smile slipping off his face, the warmth and joy that coated his bones replaced by fear and worry in a snap of a finger.

Peter's heart stopped at the sight in front of him.

You were getting held at knifepoint by the throat, tears brimming in your eyes, more of it coating your cheeks as you clawed at the arm that trapped you in their vise hold.

"P-Peter, I love you," you whimpered, gaze locking with his, hope slipping out of your orbs, the glow they once held getting dimmer by the second in a way that made a shiver run down his spine. Then Peter heard it, that piercing cackle he knew too well, his brown eyes meeting the yellow ones that glowed right behind you.

"You won't be able to save the love of your life, Spider-Man...or should I say, Peter Parker!"

Peter shook his head frantically as he yelled out your name, running at full speed to get to you only to be met by sudden darkness, your heart wrenching scream ringing in his ears followed by an agonizing sound of a body hitting the floor. Peter's blood ran cold as he frantically called out your name, over and over and over yet nothing but eerie silence echoed back at him.

And then he looked down, eyes landing on his trembling hands, each finger, both palms coated with blood, your blood.

You were gone.

"No, no, no," Peter rushed, voice quivering, hastily getting up on his feet as he looked at you worryingly. "You can't, Y/N. You can't love me."

It's not safe for you to love me.

The look of pure pain that ghosted over you features squeezed at Peter's heart, the pit in his stomach ever growing the more he thought of what he was about to do.

You stood up shakily to be level with him, deep frown on your lips, confusion and hurt swimming in your eyes as you asked, "Why'd you seem disgusted? You could just say you don't feel the same way."

"N-No, it's not that, neither of that because—" he sucked in a sharp breath, a hand running through his hair as he stared into your eyes longingly. "I do feel the same way about you."

You screwed your eyes shut as you shook your head. "Please don't lie to make me feel better, Peter," you pleaded, the break in your voice a sharp stab at his chest.

"When have I ever lied to you?" Peter internally winced at his bold and very false claim. Nothing but guilt filled his stomach given that he lies to you almost every day. He lies to you about his whereabouts, lies to you about his reasons. Peter lies to you every goddamn day by not telling you he's Spider-Man.

"Then why are your actions speaking something else then?" You gestured towards him as a whole, at the obvious distance that he's put between you two. Your eyes were slowly glossing up as you tried to simply understand what was going on.

Peter sighed, "I just don't want to hurt you okay? I—I don't want you to lose faith on the things you love because of me."

I don't want you to lose your life because of me.

"You're not making any sense," you said frustratedly.

"I'm not qualified to be a good boyfriend, Y/N. I won't be there with you all the time. I'd probably cancel on you on so many dates," Peter paused, meeting your eyes so you could see where he was coming from. "Hell, how many times have I bailed on you right now as your best friend huh? The amount of times I've left you on the street to go home alone?"

Your frown deepened as you held his eyes with nothing but sadness. "You had things going on Peter. You're being really unfair on yourself," you said.

"But you still don't deserve to be treated like that. Not now, not ever, no matter the reason," he pushed. "You deserve all those romantic clichés you're always dreaming of, you deserve to be treated like the queen that you are. You deserve the whole world Y/N, but I won't be able to give you that." Peter's voice broke, eyes holding too many emotions as he kept his gaze steady with yours. A painful task with all the pain and betrayal that's coated your eyes, utmost hurt glaring right at him. "Being with me won't be a fairytale."

Peter wasn't ignorant to the fact that you were a hopeless romantic. The countless rom-coms you've watched together have long ago proved that. The specific look in your eyes, that certain glimmer that washes over your face whenever the couple would kiss under the snow or even in the rain, or whenever they'd go on romantic walks on the beach or simply be in each other's arm whenever it's needed, Peter has memorized it. The little changes in your face whenever you see those clichés, he knows it like the back of his hand, knows how you're craving that kind of simple but true love.

But Peter can't give you any of that. Not right now.

"But I don't want a fairytale. I want to be with you. I don't care if we don't get to do any romantic clichés, being with you would surpass all of that, being with you would be more than enough. And I'm willing to try and make it work with whatever you've got going on, even if I have to make sacrifices in the process. Why can't you see that Peter?" you argued, hands clenched into fists on your sides in mere frustration.

Peter winced, the word sacrifice too heavy for him to hear. It was too painful to even fathom what you would possibly sacrifice for him, that you would probably even sacrifice all of it for him, including your life.

"No, no, please don't," he begged. "I don't want you to sacrifice anything for me. I would never want you to sacrifice those little things that make you smile. I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness for me." Peter shook his head in utter distress, palm rubbing at his face harshly that had the tip of his nose turn red. "And what happens then if it doesn't work? You'll only get disappointed. You'll only end up hating me. By then, I would have already put you through so much hurt all for nothing. I don't want that for you, Y/N."

"How'd you know that when you haven't even tried?" you whispered, bottom lip trembling. "It's like you're not even willing to try," you whimpered.

The second Peter saw the single tear that ran down your cheek he instinctively moved closer, hands reaching out, desperate to hold you, to get to tell you it's going to be alright, to apologize over and over for all the pain he has caused. But you stopped him with the palm of your hand. He felt his heart drop the moment you took a step back, shaking your head, bottom lip desperately caught between your teeth to silence your sobs.

Peter nodded gravely, his arms falling limp by his sides, fully understanding that you don't want him near. He doesn't blame you by one bit. "It's not that I'm not willing to, I just," he paused as he let out a shaky breath. "I don't trust myself to be with you. I don't trust myself with your heart because I know I will only end up breaking it. I'll only let you down." I don't trust myself to keep you safe from harm. I'll only fail you just like how I failed them. Peter confessed, brown orbs turning glossy, all from a mixture of pain and anger. He was so angry at himself for putting you through all this hurt, you don't deserve it, not even a single ounce of it.

Yes, he can try, see where this will go and do his best to be there for you at all times. But that's not set on stone, never a clear promise because he doesn't know what his tomorrow is going to bring. He doesn't know if he's staying in the neighborhood one minute and then entering another dimension the next. Being Spider-Man, he doesn't have a schedule where Peter can organize things as a matter of priority, being Spider-Man requires its own sets of sacrifices. Peter doesn't want you to feel the burden of those sacrifices, too.

He doesn't doubt that you would be understanding enough with whatever it is he has going on but that's exactly the problem. He knows you'll take the bare minimum, you'll put him first above your wants and needs. You're just too kind that way, too big of a heart. But Peter can't have that because it's just not right; it's not what you should settle for. You deserve all the dates, all the romantic walks, all the cuddles and kisses whenever you're down, all the stress free nights where you don't have to worry about him or wait for him to come back to you safe and unharmed, all the time and effort, you deserve all of it and more.

And right now, Peter can't give you what you deserve.

"Or maybe you just don't love me in the way you say you do," you accused, voice soft but the sting in it sharp.

"That's not fucking true because I love you with every ounce of my being," he protested in low growl, desperately tugging at his hair, frustrated that he can't tell you his full reasons as to why exactly he can't be with you. "I love you too much and I want to be with you so badly—"

"Then why is that not enough?" you stressed.

"You don't understand—"

"Then make me understand!" you snapped, tears running freely down your face as you looked at him with utmost despair.

"It's not that fucking simple Y/N!" Peter saw you flinch at the sudden boom of his voice, his heart cracking at the sight. He felt everything in him gradually break the more you stared at him with nothing but anguish. He took in a deep breath to calm himself before he slips out any words that he'll only regret later on. Blowing out his cheeks, he croaked, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just—"

Peter tried again and walked closer to you, trembling hands slowly reaching in mere need to feel your skin on his to ground him back, relief washing over him when you let him. He felt his heart warm up a little when you didn't pull away from his touch. But the broken sob you let out when he cupped your face, it was too excruciating for him to hear. The agonizing grip on Peter's heart tightened as he stared right into your eyes, the same ones that once held so much joy but was now flooded with tears and grief, their gorgeous glow snuffed out, all because of him.

"I'm just trying to protect you, please, trust me on that," he whispered, not even trying to hide the brokenness in his voice anymore, not even trying to hold back his tears as Peter pressed his forehead against yours.

The little droplets fell down on your face, his tears joining yours on your already damp skin. His thumb oh so tenderly tried to wipe them all away, wishing that it was as easy as that to ease up your pain, to take away your hurt so simply, but he knows it wasn't. It wasn't an easy choice and Peter knows it never will be.

"I love you so much, don't you ever, ever doubt that. B-But we can't. I'm really sorry Y/N, but we can't be together. I-I know this hurts right now, trust me, I know, but I will only make it much worse," he choked, shaking his head when you leaned into his palm with a broken breath. But you kept your eyes open, held his gaze with utter strength and Peter saw it, saw how you still looked at him with love in your eyes. Despite it being mixed with pain, it was there, clear and honest. God he did not fucking deserve you at all.

"You deserve someone who'd treat you the way you deserve to be treated, someone who'd truly show you how it feels to be loved completely and not just the bare minimum. You deserve someone who'd be so much better than me." Peter's voice broke at the end of his sentence, eyes still holding yours just so you could see the other things he can't put into words, the things he couldn't say aloud. He was desperately, silently pleading that you would see right through him, so you could understand why he has to do this. "Maybe in another life, we could make this work. But right now I'm asking, begging you not to love me, because I don't deserve that love, I don't deserve you at all."

Peter practically saw your heart shatter into pieces even more with the simple look in your eyes. It's an absolute torture to look into them right now, to see you be so broken that he found himself wishing that it was only him in pain instead. Even though the thought hurts, he wished you didn't love him. Even though it would be painful to endure, to live in a world where his feelings aren't reciprocated, Peter wished you didn't love him at all if it meant it was going to save you from heartbreak.

Better him in pain than you, always.

Breath unsteady, you closed your eyes with a small nod. "I guess this is it," you sniffled, placing your hands over his, your touch tender as you gave it a squeeze. But then you pulled it away from your face, Peter's hands slipping off your skin as you put some much needed distance between you two.

"Y/N—"

"I don't think we can go back to the way things were after this Peter. I'm sorry I just—I don't think I can handle it." You shook your head with a soft cry, forcing yourself to look back into those brown orbs as you whispered, "I can’t take it."

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes casted on the grass with a solemn nod as he croaked out, "Then I guess this is it."

"Goodbye, Peter."

He screwed his eyes shut at the sound of your broken voice, the heartbreaking sob that followed soon after made him let out a shaky breath. The sound of your footsteps felt like gunshots, each step taken like a bullet wounding him deep but Peter didn't dare to respond, didn't even dare to look up as you briskly walked away.

Peter had to keep his head down because he didn't have enough strength, didn't have the sense of control to stay still in his place. He knows that if he does as much as look up and catch your figure, he'll run after you, full speed. He'll pull you back into his arms; he'll pour all his love into one kiss as he holds you tightly. He'll keep you in his embrace for eternity the moment he gives in into his selfish needs. But he shouldn't. He needs to let you go, he has to let you walk away, for your sake.

The farther the sound of your footsteps got, the tighter his fists grew, fingernails digging into his palms as his breathing became labored, harsh. Peter swiftly turned around and took a hard swing at the tree once you were gone, glad that no one was around to see the whole thing shake from his strength. The bark cracked under his knuckle, leaves falling around him just as his knees gave out. A sharp, broken, frustrated scream escaped his lips as he buried his face in his hands, body shaking with all the anger and pain, trembling from his heart wrenching sobs.

Peter felt like his lungs were about to give out, emotions overflowing and scorching all while feeling numb just the same. But he kept reminding himself why he's doing this for him to get by, kept telling himself that being far apart was for the best.

For your sake.

***

The wind was cold on your face as you stood out on the rooftop to escape. The night breeze was slowly drying up your tears, much to no use since it's replaced by fresh ones the second after anyway. You don't know how long you've been crying for, but it wouldn't really matter. Your tears could run out but the pain in your heart could only deepen with each ticking second.

You were worried, angry, hurt, frustrated and confused all the same, unable to tie everything together as it all just seemed like a whole jumbled mess in your head, an incomplete puzzle.

You're not naïve to think that there wasn't more to this than he's letting on. You know he was hiding bits and pieces, his words completely restrained. You saw it in his eyes how he was battling his mind. You saw how he was struggling to not slip out whatever it was he was holding back. It was painful, all of it, from seeing him so distressed to him breaking your heart with his care-filled yet hurtful words.

You get where he's coming from, about wanting you to experience it all and more and not just the bare minimum. If it was a different circumstance, the things he said would've been sweet, how he wants you to have the world, how he wants you to live all those clichés just so he could see you smile, see you be happy. But right now, his words just felt bittersweet since you lost him in the process.

All those days of imagining all the different scenarios on what it would look like, how it would feel when he admits he feels the same way, not once did you ever expect that Peter Parker saying he loves you would feel like a knife to the heart.

What hurts even more is the fact that he is so keen on shutting any chance, and sliver of hope down. He won't even try, like you're not worth any risks at all. It makes you question how important you actually are to him, makes you question if he really does love you in the way he claims he does.

"Ahem."

"Shit!" you squeaked, head snapping towards the squatted figure, eyes landing on the familiar masked man who seemed to like the element of surprise. "You need to stop doing that!"

"Sorry, should've given you a heads up," he apologized, voice sounding a little hoarse, a little...different.

"No shit," you grumbled, hastily wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your sweater before you turned back to face him. "What's brought you here?"

"Was just in the neighborhood, saw you out here and I thought I'd swing by," he said with a casual shrug, gaze steady on the building across. You did just the same as you turned back in front, fingers drumming on the concrete ledge as you stood in silence for a couple minutes, his company soothing in some odd way. But you welcome it, makes you feel more present, stopping you from slipping neck deep into the chaos that's in your head.

"You okay? You seem a bit down," he said, voice still a little gruff, eyes everywhere else but at you.

"Well, I guess you can say that," you breathed out.

"Want to talk about it?"

You bit your bottom lip when it started to tremble, a fresh batch of tears brimming in your eyes. "I told him," you whispered. "You know that friend I talked to you about? I told him I'm in love with him and he wasn't too happy with it. He pushed me away, I—" You shook your head with a shaky breath, eyes now trained on the busy street below. You swallowed the lump in your throat before adding, "He said he loved me but he pushed me away."

The superhero beside you cleared out his throat, shifting in his place until he was fully seated down, his legs hanging off the side of the building. "Did he tell you why?"

"He said he wouldn't be a good boyfriend and that he won't be there for me when I need him. He said I deserved better, which doesn't make any sense because he's already been doing that, being there for me. And I have no doubt he'd treat me rightly but he doesn't seem to believe that himself," you whimpered, harshly wiping away the tears that rushed out your eyes, not wanting to seem pathetic for a boy, not to seem weak in front of the masked hero.

"Hey, you don't have to act all tough for me," he reassured, hand coming up to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze for a short but sweet moment. "It's okay to cry, it doesn't mean you're weak."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding, flashing him a sad smile for a second before you stared back at the city. "And I get he's got a lot going on, I do too but what's painful is that he's not even willing to try and see if it would work or not. It hurts to think that I'm willing to try and make ends meet, that I would do anything to be with him, but he won't do the same for me. It makes me feel like I'm not worth fighting for, that I'm not enough."

"That's not true, Y/N," he whispered, almost as if didn't want you to hear it, your brows furrowing a little as you spared him a glance. He was already looking at you but the second your eyes landed on his face, he swiftly looked away. "What else did he say?" he asked swiftly, voice louder with a clear of his throat.

"He said he can't be with me because he didn't want to hurt me which sounds so fucking stupid since he's hurting me now. Really badly," you whimpered, bottom lip quivering as you screwed your eyes shut, taking in deep calming breaths, steadying yourself before you opened them again.

"Maybe he is just trying to look out for you," he started, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with a shaky breath. "Sometimes the best way to protect someone is to keep them at a safe distance, to not get too close to them, both physically but mostly emotionally."

You frowned, gaze landing back on the white fabric that's covered his eyes. "You do that too? Push people away?"

"I don't want to but I have to," he sighed, looking down at his hands like they were too heavy, like they hold so much weight over his life, caused him so much trouble and pain. He stared at them for a few seconds more before his fingers started to pick at his web shooters. "It's the best way to keep the people I care about safe."

"Because of all the bad guys chasing after you?"

He let out a soft chuckle as he nodded. "Yeah, you could say that."

You turned to face him fully, deep frown still etched on your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest. "Does that not get lonely?"

"It does." He nodded dejectedly, his eyes still looking elsewhere. "But it's better than seeing the ones I love get hurt because of the sole reason that they love me and that I love them just as much, if not more. Once they find out who I am, they're going to use that against me. They will always use that against me." The pain and hurt that coated his voice in his last sentence, you heard it loud and clear, makes you wonder what hardships he could've gone through to feel this way. "I think it's best to keep them away from this side of my world. I admit, it's really hard for me to stay away but I just keep reminding myself that all I'm doing is trying to keep them safe as much as I can," he paused, turning his head to finally look at you and you felt your heart stop at his next set of words.

"I'm just trying to protect them."

You felt as though that the clouds cleared up above your head, the puzzle pieces falling into place, completing itself as you slowly and finally tied everything together.

All those times he's suddenly in a rush to leave with a half-assed reason, the times where you'd catch a glimpse of the random cuts and bruises he had on his body, it all became so clear. And the night you first met Spider-Man, that odd feeling you had when he squeezed your hand the first time, it finally made sense. That same night, you felt as though you were crazy when you found yourself gravitating towards a complete stranger, a masked superhero at that. You found it ridiculous how you felt like you could trust him right off the bat. When you felt a vast feeling of being safe around him in so little time, initially you told yourself that it wasn't a good thing, that it was dangerous and you should tread carefully, but now the feeling just felt awfully familiar.

That's when you fully understood everything. The knots in your head gradually untangled itself as you gawked at him, mouth slightly agape in pure shock, tears welling up in your eyes for a different reason this time. All the things he's been through, all the pain and grief from the people he's lost, the weight that the world has put on his shoulders, it made your heartbreak. It made you feel so guilty that you weren't there for him through all that.

A new found weight settled itself in your chest because as you stared right at the mask, you saw him.

"Well, I need to go. You know, got a city to look after," he chuckled shyly as he looked away, his voice sounding starkly different from the previous encounters as it now held a sense of familiarity. "See you later."

With that, he jumped off, your eyes following the red in blue under the night sky, gradually getting smaller until disappearing from sight.

You smiled, a small one, didn't quite reach your ears but it was genuine. Your heart was still aching, mostly for him than for you, but it was also now filled with the greatest pride as you whispered, just under your breath,

"See you later, Peter Parker."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! tell me your thoughts! <3

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @badreputatiom @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 @camimndess @tom-hlover @jjandreidsgirl @caramelscoffee @thenoddingbunny-blog @t-lostinworlds @sarcasticallywitty15 @call-me-baby-gir1 @miraclesoflove @tanakaslastbraincell @itstaskeen ♛ Peter P. Taglist: @averyfosterthoughts @darlingspidey @namoreno @keepingupwiththehollands @quaksonhehe @big-galaxy-chaos @clara-licht @dummiesshort @geminiparkers @parker-hollandx @rebekkah4766 @iwannabekilledtwice @prettyintopeerpressure @spideyspeaches @givebuckyhisplumsnow @asoftie4bucky @dandelionxgal @peterspideysstuff @zspideyy @sluttytears || @kelieah

just let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist! <3

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker reader insert #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x female reader #spider-man #spider-man fanfiction #spider-man imagine #spider-man oneshot #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #tom holland #my writing

675 notes · View notes

wankydanvers · 4 years

Text

and i never saw you coming, and i’ll never be the same.

It was late. Really late. And whilst everyone else on the S.W.O.R.D. base was fast asleep, Darcy was still pacing around, trying to piece together any sort of new information. Everyone had been left reeling by Wanda exiting the hex and offering them one last warning against invading her home, and the only person who seemed to be able to get a handle on the situation was Monica. That was just the kind of person she was, though - brave, and commendable, and compassionate to a person who was clearly in desperate need of kindness. Man, how Darcy ador-admired, admired Monica!

After blitzing through her third cup of coffee, the astrophysicist felt her eyelids drooping slightly, and she silently cursed herself (and university) for barely feeling the effects of caffeine anymore. She could go to bed, but she knew her mind would just continue to churn out theories long into tomorrow morning, so that wasn’t really an option. There was only one thing she could do at this moment in time: and that was get more goddamn coffee!

Her boots crunched when they collided with the frosty grass, but thankfully the noise wasn’t enough to wake anyone up, which meant that she was free to stomp to her heart's content. Darcy immediately stopped when she heard what she could swear was a sniffle, and then a whimper, and before she could comprehend what she was doing she was trudging toward the source of the noise. It was a terrible idea, mainly due to the fact that Darcy wasn’t at all a comforting person. If anything, she was bound to upset the cryer further rather than soothe them. But hey, no one deserved to be left all alone in a puddle of their own tears.

The closer she got to the source of the noise, the more confused she became, because there was no way in hell that it was coming from Monica’s tent … right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong.

Darcy slowly unzipped the tent, peeling the blue fabric down just enough so that she could poke her head inside - and the sight she saw was nothing short of alarming. Captain Monica Rambeau - who in Darcy’s eyes, was the strongest person on the base by miles - with hot tears streaking down her face, furiously wiping at them with her sleeve in the hopes that they’d just disappear.

It was strange to see Monica exert any emotion that wasn’t remotely professional, and Darcy did a double-take. After a moment or two of just staring, her heart aching in her chest at the vulnerability she was suddenly being presented with, Darcy decided that she needed to do something about it.

“Hey—” She basically whispered, trying to alert Monica to her presence without scaring her all at the same time. It was a success, and though Rambeau didn’t jump out of her skin like Darcy was anticipating, she instead began wiping at her eyes ten times more ferociously than she was before.

“I’m not crying.” Monica croaked, and Darcy couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her lips. Even in her darkest hours, Monica was trying her best to be strong. It would have been cute if she wasn’t so worried about her.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” Darcy said with a shrug, stepping inside the tent and closing it behind her, hoping they could have a shred of privacy in an almost-always hectic place. “Are you okay?” The softness of her voice was making her surprise herself, but she shrugged it off, merely putting it down to the anomaly maturing her.

Sure, it may have been down to the fact that she got butterflies every single time she heard the words ‘Captain Rambeau’ uttered, or the weird tingly feeling that she got every time they accidentally brushed hands, or how Monica’s brief, fleeting smiles managed to make her day every time she saw them, even if they weren’t a regular occurrence.

But hey, that was just gals being pals! Nothing more, nothing less …

Monica’s shoulders tensed for a moment at the affection she was being shown, and then she slumped down onto the cot that they were calling a bed around here (Darcy had never been more grateful for her rock hard mattress in her entire life).

“I couldn’t do it.” Monica announced suddenly, shaking her head which she was now clutching in her hands.

For a moment, Darcy wasn’t sure what to do, but she’d come this far now, and there was no way in hell she was going to just leave Monica like this. Her steps were slow at first, but after she’d mustered up all of her courage, they became determined, and she slowly lowered herself down onto the cot next to the S.W.O.R.D. Captain.

“Do what Monica?” She queried, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I couldn’t save her.”

It was a line that rendered them both speechless, and out of pure instinct, (and something in her subconscious that was urging her to console the woman next to her) Darcy manoeuvred her hand behind Monica’s back, rubbing small, soothing circles into it. The stress and the tension that had been in Monica’s shoulders suddenly seemed to dissipate, and there was a moment or two where that tension was lingering in the air instead. The two simply just stared at each other for a moment, drinking in each other’s features and basking in the company. But it didn’t last, nothing good did for too long, and after a few more seconds of silence, Monica’s eyes went glassy once again.

“Wanda she … she’s still in there. So are all those people. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save them. Just like I couldn’t save my mom. I mean let’s face it Darcy I’m nothing short of a failu—”

There wasn’t any other way.

That was how Darcy rationalised it in her head. She couldn’t let Monica sit there and attack herself for another second, and so the only way to properly shut her up?

It was to grab Monica’s face and smash their lips together, duh!

Both of Darcy’s hands were clutching onto Monica’s cheeks, and even as she breathlessly pulled away, she never removed the hold that she had on her, rubbing patterns onto her cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.

“Darcy I—” Monica stopped herself from ruining the moment, and instead decided to bring their lips together once again. It was less desperate this time, and the small, content hum that flew past Darcy’s lips indicated that they were both on the same page on what exactly they needed from each other right about now. Intimacy. Affection. Dare they even say love.

Their mouths intertwined like they had been doing it for hundreds of years, and Monica made a mental note to ask Darcy later how she managed to become such a good kisser. It didn’t feel like a new beginning, nor did it feel like they were both taking a dangerous plunge into the unknown. It felt like they were coming home, and in that very moment it became clear to both Darcy and Monica that this wasn’t just a kiss. This was fate.

Finally, they had to come up for air, resting their foreheads against one anothers while they regained all the oxygen that they had stolen from each other in their romantic exchange. Neither of them were sure on what to say, and so apart from their small, soft pants, there wasn’t a peep in Captain Rambeau’s tent.

“You know, I didn’t know you felt that strongly about this mission Doctor Lewis.” Monica eventually teased, mischief dancing around in her eyes.

“Oh I don’t, I’m actually not even a real doctor.” Darcy said with a smirk, blushing furiously at Monica’s tiny little giggle. “You wanna know what I do feel strongly about, though?”

“You...”

#darcy x monica #monica x darcy #darcymonica #monicadarcy #shameless fluff #wandavison #my mfing babies

36 notes · View notes

samthemarvelfan · 4 years

Text

Graveyard: Chapter One

-A Pet For The King-

Summary: Is being out of a cell worth all of this? ...probably not...

Pairing: Loki Odinson x OFC

Warnings: Sexual situations, innuendos, threatening, Loki is a dick.

A/N: Here we go! Off to the races! Do these two have a history? Sure seems like it... Tags are open.

There were at least 50 prisoners ahead of you awaiting their assignments at the work shed. Thanks to Korg, you’d been released from your cell, and sent for something called Joruuda’s Judgement.

From what you gathered, Joruuda is a green guy with 2 heads assigning people to different lines. A simple grunt—all of which sounded the same to you, and one of his assistants would shove you where he decided.

There’s about 10 people to go when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder. You turn, and your gaze immediately has to glance another 3 feet higher.

“Hey Ella, it’s me Korg.” The pile of rocks smiles happily.

You smile, shaking your head in disbelief. This guy really is too nice to be locked up in here.

“Hi, Korg.”

He stands awkwardly next to you as the line begins to move again. “Whatcha doing?” He asks.

You sigh. “Just awaiting destiny.”

“That’s a funny way to look at a life time of manual labor, but okay. Hey, that King guy is here. Wanna see him?” He asks innocently.

You scoff. “Why is a guy that’s supposedly a King down in the cells? Not much regality to be found in a dungeon.”

Korg shrugs. “Not sure, but I think the Grandmaster is letting him have his pick of concubines.”

You roll your eyes. “Wonderful.”

You’re next in 2 away from being judged, “No thanks, Korg. The guys is probably a lunatic, and I’ve had my fill of those.”

“Alright, suit yourself. Hopefully you don’t get sent to the 4th line.”

Your stomach churned, “Whats the 4th line, Korg...”

“Oh, that’s the ah, the sewage department.” He smiled.

“Next!” The assistant with the clipboard called.

You step up to the line marked on the floor. “Race?” She asks you.

“Asgardian.” You reply, attempting to avoid eye contact. Most people these days didn’t like hearing that someone had visited Asgard, let alone was a citizen.

One of Joruuda’s heads turn and looks at you abruptly. His three eyes scan you up and down, before growling something to the assistant on his left.

“Alright, Asgardian. Lane One.” She says. You smile meekly, and follow the guard.

Compared to the other lanes you’d seen, lane one was relatively empty. Just you and 6 or 7 other women; of every shape and color, mind you.

A guard holding the largest blaster you’d ever seen stood at the head of the line. “Listen up, urchins! Through that door you will remain silent! Stand there...look appealing...keep your mouths shut. For those of you selected...well, congrats. Those of you who aren’t?” He smirked, “I’ll see you in the sewers.”

Selected? You thought. For what?

If you’re being totally honest, you��re not exactly sure how much worse things for you could get, so you decided to roll with it.

A buzzer sounded, and the door ahead of you shot up, opening into a large white room.

The 8 of you file in and stand on marked spots. Curiosity got the better of you, and you start to look around. It seems to just be a large white room with one door on either side. On the wall ahead of you however, you notice a small seam across the bottom where it meets the floor.

Illusionary walls. You think to yourself.

Suddenly another buzzer sounds, and a voice comes over an intercom, speaking yet another language you don’t understand.

A door on the other side of the room opened, and a guard walked in. He makes his way to the group of you and without hesitation, grabs the front of your shirt and yanks you towards the door.

Shit, shit, shit! You didn’t actually prepare for what would happen had you been picked.

Three more guards walk past you, back into the room where the other girls are awaiting their fate. “Alright ladies, to the sewers!” One says happily. The last thing you hear before the doors shut is shrieking.

“This way...Asgardian.” The guard commands. Note to self, keep your origin story private from now on.

The guard escorts you down the dark hallway, and into a very questionable elevator. Then, a transport carrier arrives and escorts you to the one building towering over the rest of the city.

Once inside, you traipse down the red and white hallway, before stopping in front of a door. “Wait here. When the door opens, you can enter.”

You nod, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention. The guard takes a few paces behind you, but waits there with his gun at the ready.

After a few moments, the door slides up. You walk in, and see people in the bright clothing and markings all over their faces. A large, boisterous group is straight ahead of you, laughing. When they see you approaching, they part down the middle.

A man walks forward, dressed in the gaudiest outfit you’d ever seen. His nails and eyeliner matched the same shade of blue, and his assistant was the surliest looking woman you’d ever seen.

“Ah, here she is!” He leaned over to her, “it is a she...right, Topaz?”

“It is a she.” The stout woman replied monotonously.

It doesn’t take you long to realized that this nutjob is the Grandmaster.

“Wonderful, wonderful! Sire, I believe this is the one you’ve selected to be your concubine du jour?” He asks suggestively.

A crowd to your left splits a path, and you sense his presence before you see him.

“Oh yes, I do believe she’ll do wonderfully.” The smirk in his voice is undeniable.

No, not here. You think.

But he is here—Loki, in all his glory.

“You’ve got to be shitting me...” you scowl.

“Hey, hey! Language missy, this is the King of Assberg!” The Grandmaster boasts.

“Asgard.” You and Loki mumble simultaneously.

He laughs suggestively, “Ah look at that, bonding already I see. Well your majesty, please feel free to retire to your chambers. Those broad shoulders of yours must be quite tense, and I can see in your eyes you’re just dying to get a taste of...” he drifts off, unsure of what to call you.

“Prisoner 7648.” His assistant said boringly.

You rolled your eyes, “My name is Ella and I will not be going with him.”

As you turn around to leave, you’re met with the whirring of a laser blaster aimed straight at you.

Putting your hands up in surrender, you spin back around.

“Oh no actually, I think you will, won’t she?” The Grandmaster queried.

“Mmm.” Topaz replied.

Loki took a step forward. “Grandmaster, might I humbly request some privacy for the day? I’m quite pent up you see, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself with this one.” He says, looking you up and down.

I’m going to kill you in your sleep. You think as loud as possible, knowing Loki is probably poking around in your head. A smirk crossed his lips for a moment, and you’re confident he read your mind.

Good.

“But of course. Feel free to join my pleasure vessel later, we embark after dinner.” He offers Loki, to which you feel the vomit rise in your throat.

I am surrounded by maniacs. You think to yourself.

“I shall consider it,” he replies. “For now, I’ll take to my chambers.” Loki’s gaze is upon you once more, but his eyes aren’t holding that signature arrogance you’re used too. They almost look...relieved?

Probably to leave this fools company.

The guards who escort you were equally as creepy as the rest, and while Loki roamed freely ahead of you, they’d chosen to shackle you—at Loki’s insistence.

“I can take it from here, gentlemen.” He said, punching in numbers on the keypad on the wall next to the door.

You keep silent as he walks you into the room, and removes your shackles.

“Now then—“

Slap!

Your hand reverberates off his cheek before the shackles hit the floor.

Loki’s face remains unphased as he grabs your wrist, squeezing it tightly. It’s hurts, but you won’t give him the satisfaction in telling him that.

“Striking the God who just saved you is not the wisest of choices.” He seethes.

His grip grows stronger, surely bruising you. “Saved me? You’re the reason I’m here in the first place, asshole!”

His tone lowers, “Careful, pet. You’ve no friends here, and I am still your king.” He warns.

You tear out of his grasp. “You’re nothing to me. Just the man who tried to have me killed.” You turn your back on him, and walk towards the window.

He laughs sardonically, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?!” You shout, “You summoned a tidal wave to chase me down and drown me.”

His face shift into something you can’t decipher. “You would not have drowned. You’d have been pull back toward the palace, but instead you decided to not head my warnings and kept running.” You hear his footsteps carrying him closer to you.

“How did you even find me? Have you charmed me? Put some sort of location spell on me?” You sneer.

He chuckled, “You’re not worth the effort it would take to maintain it. I fell into the bifrost same as you, only I was wise enough not to get myself captured.”

You turn to him and cross your arms, “and how do you expect the Grandmaster will feel when he find out he’s housing a murderous usurper?”

Loki closes the space between the two of you, “Oh pet, I don’t expect him to become aware of any of that. A gentle reminder that I’m the only thing standing between you and a lifetime of slavery to that lunatic, so I suggest you do not try my temper.”

“Or what?” You prod.

He moves his lips close to your ear, “or I’ll have you sent back to your cell to rot away into eternity.” He whispers.

When he pulls his face back, his eyes are boring into yours, “Thoughts?”

You swallow thickly, your eyes unable to leave his gaze. As much as you detested the God before you, you knew better than test him. Besides, being with him is a much better choice than being a prisoner.

...well, a prisoner in a cell anyway.

You’d known Loki your whole life. There was a time when you’d never imagine he’d hurt you, but it’s all different now. After what he did all those years ago on Midgard, and what he’s done now to Odin, there’s no predicting him. His taste for power and purpose has drained him of his humanity.

“Fine, but if you think I’m going to serve as your concubine, you’ve got another thing coming.” You threaten, though after his words, the threat comes out meeker than intended.

Loki laughs, “If that’s what I wanted of you, I’d take you...right here,” he braces his palms against the window behind you, trapping your body between it and his. “Where everyone could see you come apart, but alas, I’ve other pressing matters, I’m afraid.”

Asshole.

“Why did you pick me then? You can’t possibly think I would uphold any loyalty to you. What purpose could you have for me?” You ask, trying to shrink from his gaze.

Loki pulled away from you, moving across the room. He removes his leather cloak, laying it on the bench at the end of his bed.

“I have plans. Plans that will require someone with your skills, and if you’d like to see Asgard again, you’ll do as your told.”

The anger building within you began to bubble over, “‘Do as your told?’, I’m not a dog, Loki. I’m not a pet you can train and command.”

“Actually,” he ponders, “that’s exactly what you are. Whilst on Sakaar, my pet you shall be.”

Sakaar? Well at least I know where I am, now.

He sits upon the bench, and removes his boots. “How long have you been here?” He asks suddenly.

You shrug, “I don’t know. A month? Maybe less maybe more. The days in the cells all blurred together.”

A sort of sadness flashes in his eyes, but you ignore it. You will not fall for the trickster god’s schemes.

“Hm, well I’ve been offered to join the Grandmaster for dinner. It’s supposedly quite the grand affair, so I suggest you bathe.” He says, looking you up and down once more.

Oh gosh, when was the last time you bathed? You can’t remember, and it’s embarrassing. You were never the fairest of maidens on Asgard, but right now you looked like something scraped off the bottom of a boot.

“Don’t fret, pet. I assume life was not full of grandeur in the dungeons. Bathe, and look presentable.”

You roll your eyes, “Forgive me, your majesty,” you sass, “it would appear I’ve left all of my fine silks and jewels on Asgard.”

Loki stands, and waves his hand over the bed. Through the reflects of green shimmer, appears a silk gown. Deep green in color, and far too revealing for your taste. “Now as for the jewels, I suppose I can make my pet a collar—“

“No.”

He smirks, “I thought not. Come, let us bathe.”

Your eyes widen, “I know how to bathe myself, and I can’t exactly run away down the drain, Loki.”

He opens the bathing room door, before turning back to you. “No, but these people seem to think I’m making you come undone in every conceivable way possible,” he husks, “and I can assure you, I would not be done yet. So I will stay with you a while longer, to maintain our ruse.”

You sigh, “You disgust me.”

Loki tuts, “Now, now. My pet would have the highest obedience. We’ll have to remedy that tongue of yours.” He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, and you have to resist the urge to bite it off.

“Bathe—now.” He orders.

You traipse past him into the bathing room. Sitting on the edge of the pool, you pull off your boots and your vest, pausing when you get to your tunic.

“Turn away.” You seethe.

Loki’s eyebrows raise, “It’s not like I haven’t seen a woman’s body before.”

“That may be true, but the only way you’re seeing this woman’s body is if you’ve developed the ability to see through clothing. Now turn away.”

...and he does. Which surprised the hell outta you.

Once you’re in the bath, you submerge you’re body fully under the milky water, leaving only your head visible. “Okay.” You announce.

Loki turns around and begins stripping off his clothing.

“What in the name of Yggdrasil do you think you’re doing?!” You shout.

“Bathing. I was in those dungeons for only a moment and I feel absolutely riddled with filth.”

You gasp and turn away when he reaches for his belt. “Absolutely not! There’s another bathing pool right there, Loki!”

He laughs, then you hear the water splash, and you can only assume he’s entered your pool. Lucky for you, it’s nearly 8 feet wide, so you tuck yourself into the far corner.

“Do you not recall the escapades of our youth? Bathing nude in the sea whilst the stars danced above us?” He croons, moving closer to you.

Loki reaches behind you, grabbing a wash sponge and hands it to you. “A lot has changed, Loki.”

The water ripples as he moves away from you again. “You’re right, and I intend to keep it that way.”

The milky water is above your bosom, shielding your body from his view as you wash yourself. While it’s not the most awkward thing in the world, considering how familiar you are with each other, it is unsettling.

“This is madness.” You mumble.

“Oh, pet,” Loki smirks, “The madness has not yet begun.”

#Loki #loki x ofc #Loki Angst #loki fanfic #loki x reader

34 notes · View notes

dudeandduchess · 5 years

Text

We Can’t Be [Rengoku Kyōjurō x F!Reader]

Rating: SFW Characters: Rengoku Kyōjurō x F!Reader (who is Kagaya’s Little Sister) Summary: Kyō and (Y/n) are childhood friends, they eventually fall in love with each other— only for (Y/n) to get engaged to someone else; someone who was truly meant to be with her. Sadly, that person wasn’t Kyōjurō. Word Count: 3,448 Warnings: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Pregnancy, SO. MUCH. ANGST.

Note: Hello, bbys! Sorry this took so long. I had some issues to settle. Oof. But this was inspired by most of the asks that I got earlier. Most notably the Angsty Fucker Anon ahaha. I hope you guys like it!

Also, this was written while listening to ‘Til My Heartaches End, 12:51, and We Can’t Be.

***

Between her and her older brother, (Y/n) knew that she was the brattier one. It had been a long-standing fact within their family, that their own father had given up trying to discipline her into behaving. The Ubuyashiki patriarch had figured that it was easier to wait for his youngest child to acquiesce to his will, instead of forcing her beneath it.

Hence, why she had been set free to roam around the house without supervision; unlike her older brother— Kagaya— whom had to have an attendant with him at all times.

“Nii-chan,” A young (Y/n) whispered through the slightly opened shoji, as she peeked at her brother who was engrossed in his own lessons for the day. “Pssst.Nii-chan.”

She should have been in the same predicament, but she had tricked her tutor into leaving the room, so she managed to escape without much trouble.

Abruptly, the older Ubuyashiki child’s head snapped up to the source of the voice. Then slowly, a warm smile crept onto his face at the sight of his younger sister. “You know father’s going to come here soon.”

“I know, so we have to leave now,” The young lady whispered in an urgent tone, as she slid the door open a bit more. She slipped a hand through the gap, then beckoned her brother over— much like amaneki-neko. “Let’s see if Katsuis still in the garden.”

(Y/n) snickered at the nickname she’d bestowed upon the piglet she had seen wandering about in their garden, then slapped her tiny hands over her mouth to silence herself. She thought she had been so hilarious in naming a pig Tonkatsu, while her brother could only look on and shake his head.

Whether in amusement, or in disappointment, (Y/n) didn’t know; nor did she care.

“Yes, Oyakata-sama, I’ll be sure to check on the situation there.” A jovial voice reverberated off the walls in the corridor, which had the Ubuyashiki heiress tensing up where she stood.

She didn’t turn, nor did she dare to look away from her brother— whom was looking at her with worried eyes. Because she knew, even without checking, that her father had already seen her; as evidenced by the sudden silence, and the irked gaze she could feel boring holes into the back of her head.

However, instead of getting mad— like he’d wanted to— her father merely sighed and rubbed his temples to ease his oncoming headache. “(Y/n), what are you doing out of your lessons?”

And, as if he just realized what a stupid question that was, the Ubuyashiki patriarch sighed once more. “Shinjurō, you brought Kyōjurō with you, yes?’

“Yes, Oyakata-sama. He’s in the garden right now,” Shinjurō answered, clearly unsure as to where his master was headed with his query. “Do you want me to call him?”

“No, no,” (Y/n)’s father answered softly, before setting a gentle hand on top of his daughter’s head. “Go, (Y/n). You can play outside with Kyōjurō, but make sure to attend your lessons tomorrow.”

At that, (Y/n) beamed before turning to hug her father around the waist. “Thank you, otou-san! I promise I’ll go to my lessons tomorrow!”

And without further ado, she skipped down the hall— before her father could change his mind about letting her play instead of study.

That was the day that inevitably changed her life— for better, or for worse, she wasn’t exactly sure.

The moment she saw a boy her age— with the same flaming hair as Shinjurō-san’s— crouched down on the ground and trying to reach for something beneath the cluster of hydrangea shrubs, she immediately got down next to him to check on what had him so interested.

When she saw that he was trying to get Katsuout from beneath the shrub, she grinned and poked his cheek. Her action, of course, made Kyōjurō jump and hit his head on a low hanging stem. “If you want him to come out, you have to give him some food. Katsu likes to eat— otou-sansaid so.”

“Really? Do you have any snacks we could give him?” Kyōjurō asked enthusiastically, as his eyes brightened at the concept of actually seeing the boar in broad daylight. He had never had a pet of his own, as his father never let him keep one, so to see an actual boar up close was quite a treat for him. “Is he your pet?”

(Y/n) wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question, as she had never asked her parents if she could actually keep Katsu, but she still found herself nodding. “Yes. I guess he is. Come on, let’s ask Akio-sanfor some snacks.”

She didn’t think much of it back then, but she moved to grab her newfound friend’s hand and proceeded to drag him out from under the shrub. Then, she led both of them around the house; making sure to take the routes that would least likely make her bump into her frantic tutor; since she was sure that her senseiwould drag her back to her room and force her to study— even if her father gave her a free pass for the day.

“Akio-san?” (Y/n) called out in the seemingly-empty kitchen, as she readjusted her grip on Kyōjurō’s hand. “Akio-san? Can I please have some food for Katsu?”

When no one answered her, she went up to one of the shelves— still hand-in-hand with Kyōjurō— and reached up to get one of the boxes which she knew had Castella cake in it. She then tucked the box beneath her arm, then cried out, “I’ll be taking the Castella. Thank you!”

And with their scavenging mission a success, both children went back to the hydrangea shrub where Katsuwas laying under, and sat down next to each other.

The moment that (Y/n) let go of his hand, Kyōjurō felt a sense of loss envelop his young heart. He wanted to reach out again and entwine their fingers— much like earlier— but he resisted the urge to do so; as it would be very ungentlemanly of him.

“You never told me your name,” He began with a quirk of his eyebrows, as he watched the girl in front of him unwrap the Castella they had pilfered from the kitchen. “My name’s Rengoku Kyōjurō. I’m going to be the next Flame Hashira!”

“Oh, really?” (Y/n) exclaimed, while she took a piece of the cake and popped it in her mouth. The sweet treat practically melted on her tongue, and she resisted the urge to gush over how delicious it was. When she swallowed what was in her mouth, she answered, “I’m Ubuyashiki (Y/n). Nice to meet you, Kyō-chan.”

“U… Ubuyashiki?” The young Rengoku’s eyes widened, and he immediately righted his posture into one that denoted his deep respect for (Y/n). “The pleasure is all mine, ojou-sama.”

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) questioned with a slight tilt of her head, as her new friend’s polite vocabulary reached her ears. “We’re friends now, so you can just call me (Y/n).”

She didn’t even wait for him to answer, as she took a piece of the Castella between her thumb and index finger, then popped it into his agape mouth.

“It’s good, right? I don’t think I want to share with Katsu anymore.” The Ubuyashiki heiress giggled heartily, and that was the moment that Kyōjurō knew… he’d found the girl he wanted to marry.

***

Time seemed to fly by after that, and from snot-nosed five year-olds, both (Y/n) and Kyōjurō grew up to be drastically opposite ten year-olds.

While (Y/n) was so engrossed in reading her books and playing her kotoout in the garden, Kyōjurō was busy training to be a Hashira. He would often accompany his father to the Ubuyashiki mansion, if only to catch a glimpse of (Y/n)— but he never told her that.

As far as his young mind was concerned, girls were disgusting. They were to be respected and admired, but they were gross with their need to hug and kiss their significant others all the time.

Still, there was a part of him that never wavered; and that part wanted to marry (Y/n) when they were older.

What he didn’t know was that— when he was too busy training in the expansive garden, while he waited for his father— she would also sneak covert, admiring glances at his form.

(Y/n) couldn’t deny the fact that Kyōjurō was handsome, so she mostly told herself that wanting to look at him was inevitable. Because humans loved to look at pretty things; and he was a mighty fine specimen.

However, after the year when they turned eleven, she never saw him visit her home again. Her father said that it was because Shinjurō had already retired, which meant that Kyōjurō wouldn’t be visiting anymore.

She had never told anyone back then— not even her brother— but she had cried herself to sleep so many times after the first month that he didn’t show himself to her. He never even replied to her letters, which hurt her more than anything.

Because not only had she lost a potential love interest, but she had also lost a friend— her only friend, at that.

There were so many times when she had wanted to confide in her brother, but with the death of their father— as well as his impending marriage to Amane— she couldn’t find it in herself to add to his burden.

So, to ease her loneliness, she would often visit their parents’ graves and pour her heart out to them— if only to ease the pain and loneliness that she felt.

However, the year of her thirteenth birthday, Kagaya had sent her to serve as the host for the Final Selection, she was in for a huge— and very positive— surprise. She couldn’t even stay focused on her spiel, as her gaze always kept gravitating over to the enigmatic Kyōjurō.

And, as if her stuttered spiel wasn’t enough to embarrass her, she had to turn her back towards the Slayers because— as Kyōjurō passed by her— he whispered a quiet, ‘I’ll see you later, (Y/n).’

Her heart felt like it was going to jump out of her chest at that. She was torn between screaming her head off at him, and gathering him in her arms while confessing her feelings; yet she did neither, as she had to keep up her unbiased façade.

During the entire week he was up on Mt. Natagumo, she barely slept a wink. She felt like she was going half-crazy with worry and, it might have been unfair of her to do so, but she sent a crow to follow his movements and report his status to her.

She knew that she couldn’t exactly pull him out of there, as it would be against Demon Corps rules, but she had to know; she couldn’t risk losing him.

Yet it appeared that there was no need for her to worry; because not only was Kyōjurō eliminating demons like they meant nothing, but he was doing so without sustaining any injuries whatsoever.

The seventh day couldn’t arrive sooner for (Y/n) and, while she busied herself with her mundane hobbies, Kyōjurō was always on the back of her mind. It was apparent to everyone who saw her that her heart really wasn’t in whatever she was doing; and her absentmindedness was even more evident to her brother.

As much as Kagaya didn’t want to crush his sister’s heart, however, he knew that he had to tell her early on about her own fate. They weren’t meant to be with people who weren’t given to them by their family’s priests, as it would spell their untimely end.

“(Y/n),” The older Ubuyashiki began softly, as he sat down beside his sister on her picnic blanket.

She slowly closed the book she had been reading, and turned to look up at Kagaya. His curse mark was slowly starting to appear along his left temple, which greatly worried (Y/n); yet she knew that she could do nothing, as it was their family’s fate.

Unless they killed Muzan, all the people within their line were fated to die at a young age.

“What has you so troubled?” Kagaya asked with a comforting smile.

However, it did nothing but make (Y/n)’s heart feel like it had seized in her chest. She knew full well that her brother knew what was on her mind, but he was merely being polite about it— to give her some semblance of privacy. “You know what’s troubling me. Don’t even pretend that you don’t, nii-chan.”

“I know, but it would make me feel better if it actually came from you, instead of from a premonition.” Just like him, she had the gift of foresight, which made for pretty interesting conversations between them, and this… it was the most awkward of them all.

Because she didn’t want to tell her older brother about her emotional woes.

And when her silence persisted, Kagaya sighed— much like their father used to when he didn’t know what to do with (Y/n). “You know as well as I do that it won’t end well if you pursue a relationship with Kyōjurō.”

“I know that, but… it’s him. I’ve loved him for so long; would it be wrong to follow my own heart?”

“It won’t… but only to a certain extent. (Y/n), there’s a thin line between real love and self-sacrifice. You’re old enough to know which lines don’t need to be crossed.”

After that, the young woman remained quiet— as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Her brother’s words rang nothing but the truth, yet her heart wanted something entirely different.

(Y/n) wanted to go against all traditions and safety precautions, if it meant that she would experience something real and spontaneous. She wanted something that she had been longing for ever since she was young; not something that was handed to her to save her family’s lineage.

Besides, the Demon Slaying Corps didn’t need her offspring; not when she was a mere replacement for her brother— whom already had a wife, and a child on the way.

If she were to die the very next day, she wanted to— at the very least— experience what life with Kyōjurō would be like.

So she did; despite her brother’s gentle reminders to not let things get out of hand.

Because he knew, as much as she did, that staying with the young Rengoku would mean certain death for her; especially if she were to have his child, as his soul was not the one meant for hers.

Yet, she paid no heed to Kagaya’s words. She, selfishly, followed her own heart.

Much to her brother’s dismay.

***

“I always want to stay this way with you,” (Y/n) whispered softly, as she laid her head on her lover’s bare chest. They had just finished with a round of lovemaking, which rendered both of them pleasantly sore, and a tad sleepy.

“Then we will.” Kyōjurō smiled, while he pulled her body flush against his side. “Always. I promise you.”

It had been seven years since they had started being a couple, and those five years spent together were filled with nothing but bliss.

Of course, Kagaya didn’t fully approve of their relationship, but he didn’t meddle in their affairs. He wanted his sister to be happy, no matter the consequences, so he left them alone.

A giggle bubbled from (Y/n)’s lips at that, and she leaned down to press a kiss to the newly appointed Flame Hashira’s chest. “I love you, Kyō. So, so much.”

“And I love you more, my Sweet Flame,” Rengoku answered softly, before brushing his lips against the crown of her head. He was truly, and utterly smitten with the woman in his arms.

So smitten, in fact, that he was already considering asking for her hand in marriage.

The words always wanted to escape from his lips, that he had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from just blurting it out. He wanted so badly to marry the love of his life, yet he wanted to wait until it was the perfect moment to ask her.

“I promise you, we’ll stay like this forever. I’ll always be yours… as you are mine.”

***

However, he had waited too long, as the priests assigned to the Ubuyashiki family had managed to step in— despite Kagaya’s wishes to leave them alone.

Their motivations weren’t selfless; as they were insisting to marry (Y/n) off to her real betrothed in fear of the Ubuyashiki clan’s curse consuming them as well; at least, the ones who weren’t already consumed by the curse.

No one had ever dared to go against the priests’ spousal recommendations, so no one knew the real consequences of defying such a long-standing ritual. Not until (Y/n) came along.

And so, with heavy hearts, (Y/n) and Kyōjurō let go of their relationship; for the sake of other peoples’ lives.

Their separation was quiet; tear-filled, but filled with so many parting kisses and words of love. Every press of their lips against the other’s skin was committed to memory; and each fleeting caress to their lover’s naked body was tucked away in an untouchable corner of their own hearts. Because they might have been forced to stay apart, but their love for each other still burned brightly.

And life in the Ubuyashiki Manor had become quieter— morose— after that.

(Y/n) no longer played her kotoout in the garden, nor did she go out to enjoy the feel of the sun against her skin. She never laughed or smiled, nor did her eyes hold the same brightness that they used to.

Slowly, she withered away inside her room— just waiting for her family’s curse to fully consume her; as a life without Kyōjurō was a life that wasn’t worth living.

Then, as if the world further wanted to make her suffer, the priests finally named her betrothed to be none other than the Wind Hashira: Shinazugawa Sanemi.

When Kagaya had made the announcement to the all the Hashira, as he had invited them to the celebratory feast, he couldn’t help but feel guilty at the brief flash of pain that crossed the Flame Hashira’s expression.

However, he could do nothing but adhere to his family’s traditions; for (Y/n)’s own good, as well as the good of all the priests assigned to be their clairvoyants.

***

Two months after (Y/n) had wed Sanemi, they all received the news that she was pregnant.

There was a small part of Kyōjurō that wanted to believe that it was his child, yet he knew that it was impossible— as it had been months since the last time he and (Y/n) had made love. To find out only then meant that it was Sanemi’s child; and that fact felt like a dagger to his heart.

However, with a shaky smile, he still went up to his fellow Hashira and congratulated the other man.

And after that, he had taken to finding a secluded space for himself to cry his heart out. His tears seemed like they would never cease falling, while his heart felt like it was slowly crumbling inside his chest. His fingers had already gone numb, while his knees gave out from beneath him— so he was rendered to unceremoniously plop down on the hard ground.

In his pain though, loud, breathless sobs escaped from his lips— ones which he didn’t bother silencing as he gripped his head in his hands. His pain was so all-consuming, that he didn’t even realize that (Y/n) was watching him from her bedroom window.

She wanted to run out there and wrap him up in her arms, yet she knew that doing so would only hurt him more; as it would remind of what he could never fully have again.

(Y/n) was still in love with him, and she always would be, but she could never— for the life of her— muster up the courage to tell him that the child she was carrying was his; not Sanemi’s, as they had never consummated their marriage.

They slept in the same room, on the same futon, yet they always felt like they were miles away from each other. It was not a match made in heaven, as it was torture for (Y/n) to pretend each and every day that she wasn’t slowly dying on the inside.

There was nothing more that she wanted than to tell Kyōjurō, but she couldn’t give him that kind of hope. Not when she would only have to take it away from him once more.

382 notes · View notes

perspective-series · 5 years

Text

Pet Perspective (14/19)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Humans being demeaning how dare

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

————————————————————————————–

“Alright, we’ve got your blankets, pillows, additional pillows-”

“I still do not see why those would be necessary.” Logan interrupted.

“-your desk is set up, your closet is full… I think we’ve finally moved you in, Specs!” Roman threw an encouraging arm around Logan’s shoulders.

Patton came up to the door and, remembering their promise, knocked first, listening to see if he could hear them.

“Come in.” Logan called, loudly enough he hoped he was heard.

Patton grinned when he was able to hear Logan speak and he opened the door, coming in. “Hey guys! Just wanted to check in.” He noticed that Logan’s room seemed full with his things. “Looks like you’re all settled?”

“Just about, yes.” Logan stepped forwards. “Is there something you needed?”

“Oh, no. Just checking in.” Patton laughed. He looked around the room and winced. “Virgil and I will clean this room out soon. Probably tomorrow. I know you aren’t using it but it’ll be nice not to have to look out at a mess.”

“So long as vermin aren’t attracted, the mess is fine.” Roman assured him. “Preferred, actually.”

“Preferred?” Logan gave him a confused glance.

“...more hiding spots.” Roman admitted, a bit quietly.

Patton frowned. “O-Oh...I mean, I suppose we could leave it. But, uh, why would you need hiding spots?”

Roman rubbed at his sleeve, clearly feeling odd about speaking to a human on the matter.

“I imagine it feels instinctual.” Logan reasoned, noting that he might feel more comfortable with that arrangement as well. “Similar to having an escape readily available should the enclosure not be easily accessible.”

Patton nodded, despite not really understanding. “Okay...I mean, if that’s what you really want, we’ll leave it how it is.” He said with a small smile.

“It could be tidier though.” Logan shifted a bit, looking at the mess. “Perhaps we could construct more of a planned structure?”

Roman hummed noncommittally.

“Oh, yeah! We can do that.” Patton grinned. “It’s a bit early now but we can do it later on? You two can delegate and Virgil and I can do all the heavy lifting.” He chuckled.

“I think that sounds acceptable.” Logan agreed, although he was a bit hesitant at Roman’s lack of agreement.

Roman cleared his throat, deciding to change the subject. “So, what does the rest of the day hold for us, then?”

“Oh! Right, well breakfast, of course and Logan, there actually was something I wanted to ask you.” Patton remembered suddenly.

Logan blinked, surprised by this. “Oh?”

“Yeah! See, I have to go back to school today and I was wondering...did you want to come with me?” Patton asked. He had planned on bringing Logan with him to school for a while now. To have a little friend with him while he was there. But only if Logan wanted to, of course.

“Accompany you… to school?” Logan seemed almost dazed by the query.

“Yeah! It could be fun and hey, you’ll get to learn some cool things too.” Patton said, trying to sweeten the deal for Logan.

“I- “ Logan gaped like a fish. “I would- I, yes I would like that very much.”

Roman chuckled at how un-subtly the nerd had reacted.

Patton blinked, processing Logan’s answer before grinning wide. “Yay! This is going to be so much fun!” He offered his hands to the two borrowers. “Let’s head down for breakfast and then Logan and I can get ready for school.”

“Oh, what about Roman?” Logan glanced to his fellow borrower as they both climbed on, a sort of sympathetic worry on his features.

“I doubt school would be my cup of tea.” Roman waved off his concerns. “I’ll be fine on my own today.”

Patton hummed and set them down on the table. He went to go make a quick breakfast and that’s when Virgil came down, eyes going to the two borrowers immediately. “Oh, uh, good morning.”

“Good morning.” Logan echoed.

Roman gave him a wave.

Virgil took a seat, knowing Patton was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. “How was your first night as roommates?”

“Surprisingly successful.” Roman informed him. “After staying up most of the night we agreed on a couple ways to ‘co-habitate’, as Logan keeps calling it.”

“It’s the proper term for borrowers living together.” Logan huffed, feeling as though Roman might be poking fun at him.

Virgil chuckled. “Well, I’m glad things are working out.” It was then that Patton came out with plates of eggs and toast, setting each one in front of everyone.

“Eat up, everyone! You especially, Logan. We got a big day after all.” Patton said, before digging in.

Virgil blinked. “Big day?”

“I am accompanying him today.” Logan explained, a smile forming as he dug into his own food with an excited sort of relish.

Virgil blinked. “Wait, like, to school.” He looked at Patton, expression concerned. “Uh, Pat, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t it be?” Patton asked, tilting his head.

“I don’t know, just...he could get hurt?” Virgil just felt anxious about either of them leaving the house at all.

“It’s school.” Roman reminded him with a roll of his eyes, having been once or twice himself. “It’s not exactly dangerous.”

“Is that correct?” Logan looked to the humans for confirmation, hoping he did not have reason to worry.

“Logan, you have nothing to be worried about. Virgil, he’ll be fine.” Patton reassured both of them. Virgil sighed.

“Alright...just be careful.” He looked down at Roman. “Uh...you don’t want to go...right?”

“I’m certain I can entertain myself with the free reign of a human house.” Roman teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“...What are you planning?” Virgil asked, eyes narrowing. He did not like the look in Roman’s eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Roman feigned innocence, taking a large bite of toast.

Virgil grumbled but didn’t say anything more, taking a bite of his food instead.

Patton looked in Logan’s direction. “I think it’ll be fun.” Patton said with a smile.

“It should certainly be educational.” Logan agreed.

“Just...again, be careful.” Virgil said with a sigh. He knew borrowers were taken out everyday but that didn’t mean something wouldn’t happen.

“We will. Stop worrying you silly goose, everything will be okay.” Patton said, smiling softly at Virgil. He knew how much Virgil worried and knew how to reassure him. “And actually, we better get going soon or I’ll be late. Ready to go, Logan?” Patton asked, already holding his hand out for him.

“Indeed.” Logan finished the last bite of his food, climbing on.

“Have fun, you two!” Roman gave them a wave.

“We will!” Patton called back, placing Logan in his pocket and heading out to his car. He got in and double checked the radio was off before turning his car on.

He pulled out of the driveway and headed towards his school. “So, my first class is history, which should be fun. And then I have English.” Patton started to list off.

“How does a class period usually operate?” Logan asked, peeking out of the pocket to look around at the scenery as they drove.

Patton thought for a moment, never having had to explain it before. “Well, the classes are usually an hour and a half. The students sit at desks or tables as the professor teaches at the front of the room. Students take notes and then there are assignments to do sometimes as well.” Patton explained as he turned into the building.

“What sort of assignments?” Logan leaned forwards. “Would it be possible for me to participate?”

“Well…” Patton bit his lip. “Can you read? Or write?” Patton felt silly asking but he also knew it was possible.

Logan didn’t let the question wilt his eager attitude too completely. “Yes, I am capable of both those activities.”

“Oh! That’s good. Then I don’t see why not. It might be a bit before you’re caught up enough to actually help but I can always walk you through them too.” Patton said, parking and grabbing his bag before heading out of the car.

“That would be wonderful.” Logan could scarcely remember to regulate his breathing, finding himself almost vibrating with nerves and excitement alike.

Patton grinned and then walked to his class, sitting more in the back before taking out all his stuff. He then reached in and scooped Logan up and out, setting him down on the desk. “So, what do you think?” Patton asked, motioning towards the classroom. He was a bit early, so students were still coming in and the teacher was focused on something at her desk.

“You spend all of your time here?” Logan asked incredulously, looking around. It was massive, with several desks laid out all around. He had never seen a space for so many humans, and the prospect of every seat being filled was daunting.

“Well, not all my time. And not all in this room either. We have to switch rooms for each class.” Patton explained. As the students finished gathering in, the teacher looked at the clock before standing up.

“Greeting class, first off I’ll be handing back your papers from last week’s assignment.” She said, grabbing a stack off her desk and going through each student. She paused at Patton’s desk, eyeing the borrower on it. “Patton, pets aren’t allowed in school.”

Patton’s face dropped. “What? But he isn’t bothering anyone!”

Logan immediately felt a familiar rock forming in his stomach.

“Those are the rules, Mr. Hart.” The teacher said and Patton bit his lip.

“Please let him stay. I promise he won’t be any trouble!” Patton pleaded. The teacher looked at him for a long moment, before sighing.

“Alright...but he stays in your pocket. Understood?” The teacher said and Patton knew that he was already getting away with a lot.

“Yes, ma’am.” The teacher nodded and continued to pass out the papers. Patton sighed and looked down at Logan apologetically.

“It’s...fine.” Logan let his face fall back into that familiar stoic expression that kept him safe. Because it was fine, it had to be fine, because this was just how things were and nothing was ever going to change because despite Patton viewing him differently Logan would always be nothing in the eyes of the world and he was a fool for ever forgetting that.

Patton sighed at the look on Logan’s face but couldn’t do anything about it. He offered his hand to Logan. “I’ll make up for this later, I promise.” Patton whispered.

Logan just shook his head, sadly climbing on. He didn’t need Patton’s pity. It was his own fault for agreeing to come and getting his hopes up.

Patton placed Logan back in his pocket.

He didn’t focus all too well for the next hour and a half. He couldn’t help but feel bad for Logan. Sure, maybe he was still able to hear but he shouldn’t be forced away in a pocket. It was unfair.

As class was dismissed, Patton decided to ditch his next class. It was something he never did but with the knowledge that Logan would have to stay in his pocket for so long, he decided it would be fine for today. So, instead of his next class, he found himself back in his car, taking Logan out. “I’m...sorry that happened.”

“No, I- it’s alright.” Logan told him, having calmed slightly from the time he spent in confinement. “I was still able to listen to the lecture. I learned a suitable amount. It’s more than I would have gained at home, or ever expected to learn. I should be grateful.”

“But it’s so unfair. You shouldn’t have had to be confined or trapped.” Patton argued. “You should have been able to stay out…”

“It is a school meant for human education.” Logan looked a bit bitter. “That does not include the education of borrowers.” Indeed, borrower education was limited solely to obedience training, as far as Logan was aware.

“But...borrowers don’t get any form of education…” Patton paused. “You guys don’t even get the choice.” Being a borrower did not sound like...fun.

“I was trained to be literate, and to obey commands.” Logan tensed in recollection. “Higher education than that is unnecessary when your entire existence is meant to be a companion to someone much larger who will care for you the rest of your life.”

Patton was quiet. “I...I feel like apologizing again. Not just for what just happened but for...everything. Now that I’ve realized I...I don’t understand how the world can think of you guys as...pets.” Patton said sadly. He felt horrible for being one of the billions of people who had thoughts like that.

“The sentiment is appreciated.” Logan gave a weary sigh. “But unfortunately, I understand all too well. It is easy to take advantage of us, we’re an intriguing anomaly, and creatures of a petite stature are often seen as cute and vulnerable.”

“I know...it wasn’t too long ago I thought the same.” Patton admitted sadly. He bit his lip. “I want to make it up to you. So...name something! What have you always wanted to do, we’ll go do it!”

Logan wasn’t sure how to respond, considering they had just done the activity Logan had wanted most, and it had ended quite poorly. “What would you propose?”

Patton thought for a long moment before a great idea suddenly came to him. He grinned. “Well, if they won’t let you learn in a school, we’ll have to settle for the next best thing. Studying ourselves at the library!”

Logan perked up at this suggestion. “But what about your English class?”

“I can afford to miss it.” Patton said with a shrug. “This is more important at the moment.” He moved Logan towards his pocket but paused. “Are you okay with going back in the pocket for a bit longer?” He asked, knowing Logan had already spent a lot of time in there.

“Yes, that is acceptable.” Logan agreed, hoping it wouldn’t be for long. “Although I do believe your priorities are incorrect.”

“I think my priorities are great.” Patton said back before putting Logan in his pocket and starting towards the library. “What subject are you interested in learning more about?” Patton asked.

“I am uncertain.” Logan tried to ponder how he could possibly choose only one subject. “I suppose… science has always interested me.”

“Science…” Patton hummed in thought, smiling. “Yeah, we can do that!” It was a broad term but that just meant more options to choose from.

He pulled into the parking lot and went inside, taking Logan out as soon as he was out of the car. “Here’s the library.” Patton showed him as they walked towards the science section.

Logan looked around, craning his neck back to try and take in the space around him. If he had been impressed with the classroom, it was nothing compared to this magnificent room. There were shelves larger than Patton was tall, lined with countless books, each more than Logan had ever expected access to in a lifetime.

“Am I allowed to be here?” Logan asked uncertainly, nervous to get his hopes up.

Patton frowned, looking around. A passing librarian gave them both a smile and nod before going on her way. Patton grinned. “It looks like it!”

Logan blinked in disbelief when the other human seemed to give them approval. It certainly felt too good to be true.

Patton grinned and ran the science section, looking over the books. “Hmm...maybe this one?” He took it out, looking it over. It looked to be a biology book, which would be perfect for beginning. He chose a table in the back and set Logan down, opening the book up to the first page. “I think biology would be a good place to start.”

“What is biology?” Logan asked, coming over to inspect the contents.

“That, is what we are about to learn.” Patton gave him a wink and giggled. “Did you want to read it? Or should I?”

“What- aloud?” Logan looked a bit incredulous at the suggestion.

“Yeah! Don’t worry about disturbing anyone, it’s why I picked a table in the back.” He explained.

“I think I would prefer to read, but I am a bit out of practice.” Logan shifted, looking a bit embarrassed now.

“It’s okay! Just do your best. I’m not going to make fun of you or anything.” Patton reassured with a smile.

“In that case, a higher vantage point may be helpful.” Logan decided, trying in vain to get a good look at the book from his position on the table.

“Oh...right.” Patton chuckled. “Um...does shoulder work?” He asked, offering his hand already.

“That should be perfect, and if you follow along you should know when to flip the page.” Logan decided, climbing on.

Patton nodded and lifted Logan up to his shoulder. “Can do!”

Logan settled in, looking down at the textbook. He cleared his throat, and carefully began to read.

#pet perspective #perspective series #borrower!logan #borrower!roman #part 14 #human!virgil #human!patton

80 notes · View notes

jjkfire · 5 years

Text

taehyung x reader // fuckboy!taehyung // 2k words

You stare at the piece of paper before you. You’re so close. All you need is the middle tile and you would hit double bingo.

Wait, bingo? Why did you care for bingo?

See it wasn’t just any game of bingo. It was a special one. Each tile was a specific challenge, one you would have to complete and post on social media as proof. The challenges ranged from correcting your professor during lecture to kayaking to the middle of the enormous lake on campus to scaling the beloved statue right in the middle of the quad. Granted, you’ve picked the easier ones to complete but you think you’ve done pretty well so far. You’ve already managed to complete 8 of them. 4 straight across and 4 up. Almost forming a cross but you needed that middle tile, badly. Why? Well, this game of bingo boasted a prize of a semester’s supply of free burgers and fries. If that isn’t music to a broke college student’s ears, you’re not sure what is.

So, you’re one away from double bingo, only the middle tile standing in your way and maybe right now, you regret choosing this formation. Perhaps you should have gone for one of the rows or columns that didn’t have the middle tile… but, striking the middle tile meant you had to do one less challenge. Considering the fact that your professors are really beginning to pile on the coursework, you didn’t have the time to complete any more than one silly challenge. You groan about your predicament to Lisa, your closest friend who was this close to throwing you into the lake herself if you make her film anymore of your stupid videos for the bingo challenge.

“But that’s easy,” She laughs looking at the paper in your hand.

“Easy? It’s the middle tile for a reason,” You grumble.

Get 3000 likes on an original post that has some academic relevance.

Now how were you going to do that? It’s been weeks and you and well… the 10 other people who still bothered participating are still trying to nail that very tile. Considering that only 5 people follow you on Instagram, 3 of which are spam accounts… you don’t think you’ll be getting 3000 likes on anything, much less a post that was academically relevant.

“Just get a picture with Taehyung,” She hums. “He rakes in likes by the thousands.”

“It has to be academically related, you ninny,” You grumble, poking her in the forehead. “Taehyung and academics don’t really go hand in hand.”

See, Kim Taehyung is Beta Tau Sigma’s beloved fratboy. Loved, or rather lusted after by many, but also hated by many… usually, scorned women, of course. You’ve heard stories of him, many in fact, but they’re all the same. It’s always the same story about how they had a one-night stand with the handsome boy, how he oozed confidence, how he had them crawling back for more and of course, he obliges but it’s never really more than sex. The boy wears his fuckboy badge loud and proud and you guess you always found it quite ridiculous that the girls would come crying, bawling over the fact that he didn’t want to be exclusive. Of course he didn’t, you snort. It was practically written on his face. But you don’t understand, they would say. He was so sweet, he was so… different. But fuckboys are fuckboys, you smile. If you had a face like his, you’d probably do the same.

“Okay, but what’s the criteria? You just have to look like you’re doing homework or something, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s easy! I’ll get you your 3000 likes so I don’t have to follow you around campus and watch you make a fool out of yourself anymore.”

“Okay, but how? How does Taehyung fit into this? Just so you know, me roleplaying a schoolgirl while Taehyung smacks my ass doesn’t count as an academically relevant post.”

“That’s… actually better than what I had in mind but, you know that’s what Pornhub is for and unless you’re thinking of delving into amateur porn, I think we can skip that idea,” She laughs. “Just bring your notes with you to Beta Tau this Saturday and I’ll sort the rest of it out.”

“You’re not going to make me flash a tit in front of him are you? Because I absolutely won’t—”

“It’ll be PG, sort of… anyway, don’t worry,” She huffs. “Just, remember to be there, okay?”

You say yes and she reminds you a few more times during the week but as usual, when the day comes, you’re nowhere in sight. It’s only when your phone rings, the bass thumping in the background of Lisa’s call that you actually remember where you’re supposed to be.

“Please tell me you’re on your way here.”

“I… Yeah, I am,” You mumble, as you answer one of the last few questions on your online Chemistry quiz. “But look, I need to finish this quiz first because once I start it, there’s a time limit and—"

“You better get here in 20 because Taehyung is getting awfully antsy about being held back from his usual… activities.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” You yell as you attempt to change your outfit and answer the quiz questions, all at the same time.

There’s only 20 minutes left on the clock and you struggle to answer the quiz while you’re sat on the bus heading towards a frat house of all places. With one question left and only 8 minutes to go, you arrive at the front door of Beta Tau Sigma, pushing past the front door, ignoring the freshman that attempts to stop you from going in.

Lisa spots you instantly, dragging you towards the couch where Taehyung is seated. He looks absolutely annoyed, a deep set frown on his face with a solo cup in one hand and phone in the other. When you stand in front of him, he barely gives you the time of the day. He puts his phone away before he taps at his thigh, as if he was asking you to sit.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day or are we going to get this thing moving?”

“Sorry?” You question, unsure what he had meant by that and you turn to your friend for help. “Lisa, wait what are we—”

“Where are your notes, Y/N?” She asks before her gaze lands on the laptop in your hands. “Oh my god, you idiot. I meant like bring your physical notes not your online lecture slides,” She groans.

“Lisa, you said this would take 5 minutes,” Taehyung grumbles from behind you. “It’s been almost half an hour.”

“Okay, okay. 5 more minutes, I promise,” She sighs. “Anyway, quick introduction. Taehyung, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Taehyung. Okay, now sit on his lap.”

“I’m supposed to do what now?”

Lisa doesn’t even answer you, simply pushing you onto his lap before she snatches your phone from you. Taehyung lets out a soft groan of pain before his arms circle your middle to keep you from falling off.

“You want your 3000 likes, don’t you? Well, we’re gonna get them.”

You don’t even know what to say because first, you didn’t even know what the hell was going on. You look down at your screen and you almost let out a scream as the countdown timer shows 3 minutes left.

“Look, I just need to finish this quiz question real quick and then we can—”

“Neat, you’re already in character,” Lisa smiles as she begins recording. “Yeah, just focus on your laptop. Pretend you don’t care,” She directs, to which you nod to, albeit a little confused.

Her friends stand behind her with their phones out and their flash on to provide lighting Lisa says. It’s certainly a bizarre sight to say the least. You’re in the middle of a dimly lit living room, everyone around you already half past drunk and the soft bass thumping from the basement where the main party is happening does little to help you concentrate on your quiz.

“There’s no need to be nervous, babe,” Taehyung whispers and you assume it’s because you’re practically shaking in his lap but what he doesn’t know is that it had absolutely nothing to do with him but everything to do with the fact that you now only had 1 minute left and you can’t quite figure out the question.

You hear Lisa say something akin to alright, action! but you have no idea what she’s really talking about. It doesn’t take you too long to figure it out though because within seconds, Taehyung is pressing open mouth kisses from your collarbone to your neck, his tongue leaving behind a trail as he slowly works his way up. You gulp, when he nips at your skin and you shut your eyes in an attempt to focus on the question instead, softly mumbling to yourself but it’s a mistake because you hear him let out a low groan as he presses you down harder into his lap, his hips grinding upwards. It’s soft but Taehyung smirks because he swears he hears you stifle a moan. His hand pulls you closer to him, his thumb just under your bra and he grumbles because he finds all the layers between you and him… annoying. Lisa is practically laughing as panic flashes across your face, obviously enjoying this more than you, but seconds after, it’s like you have a lightbulb moment and you smile as you move your finger across your trackpad, selecting your choice before you hit submit.

You turn your screen towards the camera pointing at your score as you grin.

“Ten out of ten,” You beam, surprising Taehyung who pulls away with his eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” Lisa asks, confused. “What do you mea—”

“I only had 20 seconds left too!”

“Oh my god, was that a real quiz?” Lisa queries as she steps closer. “You dumbass! You should’ve just used a screenshot and faked it! I can’t believe you—”

“Well I was trying to tell you that I had an actual quiz to finish but you didn’t want to listen,” You frown and Lisa doesn’t even look at you, simply typing away at your phone.

“You know sometimes it feels like I’m the only one with functioning braincells in this friendship,” She sighs. “Anyway, you’re welcome. That’s going to be 3000 likes easy,” She hums as she hands you your phone.

“Really?” You question as you watch the video, the clip starting with just Taehyung’s lips on your neck, your head thrown back as you have your eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed but it gradually zooms out to show your laptop in your hands and finally, you pointing to your screen and Lisa midway scolding you before it cuts to black and repeats. It’s oddly a lot funnier than you expected… even if maybe that wasn’t quite what Lisa was going for originally.

“Just the thumbnail alone would probably get you 1000 likes,” She smirks, but the way her lips curl up has less to do with her statement and more to do with the way Taehyung seemed to be undressing you with his eyes.

“Nice. Here’s to hoping we get our free burgers,” You grin, shutting your laptop before you tuck it under your arm. You tap at Taehyung’s hand that’s still around your middle, holding you in place. It’s a silent gesture to ask him to let go but he only clicks his tongue at you.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He asks, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, his thumb smoothing out against the fabric of your crop top.

“Well, home, preferably,” You smile as you pull his hand away to stand up, hoping you look confident despite the way the low timbre of his voice had sent shivers down your spine.

“But what am I going to do with this?” He questions as he points to the tent in his pants. The boy was absolutely shameless.

“That seems more like a you problem and not a me problem.”

“But you caused it,” He frowns.

“From what? Sitting on your lap?” You question before you turn to Lisa. “So this is the fabled Kim Taehyung?”

“Fabled?” He asks. “Tell me, what do they say about me?” He smiles, hands resting at your waist, as if he was waiting for permission to pull you onto his lap again.

“I’m sure you know,” You sigh. “Though they neglected to mention that you’re the type that would come after just one stroke.”

Lisa lets out a low whistle, laughing silently at the way Taehyung’s jaw ticks. “I’d be careful if I were you, Y/N. This one doesn’t do too well with jokes.”

“I’m just playing,” You smile, patting the hand he had on your waist before you peeled it off. “I’m sure you’re everything they say you are,” You wink, taking a seat on the arm of the couch as Lisa hands you a drink.

“Why don’t you come find out for yourself?”

“I should, shouldn’t I?” You hum, sipping on your drink. “But there seems to be quite the line for that,” You laugh, using your cup to point towards a few of the many girls who were currently eyeing him up and down.

“Well, looks like you’re first in line to me though.”

You smile, loving the attention. The boy is smooth, you’ll give him that.

“Maybe next time,” You smile, before you lean down to whisper. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

You don’t stay to hear his answer, sauntering off before he gets the chance to reply.

“Make sure to like the video, yeah?” You say, turning back just to flash him a grin and he simply answers with a thumbs up.

He smirks to himself as he watches you walk away, your hips swaying from side to side. Hmm, Taehyung wasn’t exactly a patient man… but, he’ll wait. In any case, you’re refreshing. It’s been a while since he’s had some fun.

8 notes · View notes

hoffkk · 7 years

Text

A Legendary Thanksgiving

A Legends of Tomorrow Fanfic

Written by: @hoffkk

Note: I hadn’t posted a fic on tumblr in what felt like forever, and I also had not done a lot of stories in the DC’s legends of tomorrow category. Thus, this fic was born. Consider it a little holiday treat from me to you! ;)

Summary: Thanksgiving on the waverider leads to some pretty funny and pretty emotional moments between the legends and to a huge surprise that no one saw coming.

(set in middle of season 3)

********

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Ray toasted to the motley crew around the dining table, sounding even more chipper than usual.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" They gang cheered in response, all except for Sara. She just gave a weak smile before downing the rest of her wine like a shot of bourbon.

Before she could get caught in another toast or ridiculous game made by Ray and Nate (seriously, she never witnessed a greater torture than Thanksgiving Pictionary... and that means a lot coming from a former assassin), Sara excused herself to the kitchen for a refill. Entering the spacious galley area, her boots clicked on the tile floor as she made her way to the counter full of beverages. Grabbing the half-empty bottle of Merlot with her free hand, she carefully began to pour. As she did so, a light glinting off of her finger caught her attention, causing Sara to glance at the silver ring on her pinky. For a moment, Sara became lost in thought until she felt a rush of wetness flow over her hand.

"Shit!" She muttered angrily, putting the bottle down on the counter top along with her wine glass that was now filled to the brim. Quickly, she found some paper towels and began cleaning up her mess, all the while thinking about how humorous it was that someone with her reflexes could make such a bone-headed move. Once Sara was done with both tending to the mess and scolding herself, she forewent the stem and grabbed her wine glass by the body, lifting slowly to her lips. Just as she took a sip, Zari entered the kitchen with her own empty glass.

"A little thirsty are we?" She asked wryly.

"What... too much?" Sara replied as a smirk played on her lips.

Zari gave a light chuckle then answered, "As the person who's been seated next to Rory all night, I'd say that that looks like moderation."

Sara's smile got a little bigger as she said, "Here," then gestured for her friend's glass. When Zari handed it over, she poured half of her wine into her friends empty cup before handing it back.

"Thanks." Zari nodded, taking a sip of the chilled liquid. When Sara didn't reply and the conversation began to lull, she spoke up again. "Half-full."

"Sorry?" Sara questioned, feeling like she missed something."

"My glass." Zari explained. "Tonight I choose to see it as half-full. After all, I am on a spaceship floating through time, eating like a king for the first time in... well... ever."

"Yeah, it's a pretty good gig." Sara agreed, though her facial expression stayed neutral.

"But I sense you don't agree with my sentiment." Zari noted. "Given your lack of enthusiasm this evening."

"Don't take it personally." Sara told her. "My glass has been half-empty more often than not over these last few years."

"Any particular reason for this year? Zari couldn't help but ask.

Glancing at her ring again, Sara sighed then looked back to her friend and answered, "You know, you aren't the first newbie in the group. We've had a few team members come and go... but only one left permanently."

"Yeah, I heard one of the guys mention that before." Zari recalled, thinking back to one of Mick's drunken tales about a dead friend. "His name was Snark?"

"Snart. Leonard Snart." Sara corrected. "I don't know what you heard, but long story short, he died saving our lives, he was a hero."

"Sounds like a good guy." Zari surmised.

"Not exactly." Sara retorted, holding back a laugh. "We were actually a lot alike, him and me. We were both decent people who were dealt unfortunate hands, over and over again, forever trying to escape the darkness around us and trying to be better."

Zari nodded. "So, I take it you two were close then?"

Sara shrugged, "We were... friends, I guess. We kept each other sane inside this madhouse. Anytime I started to feel overwhelmed by a mission, Leonard would pull out his handy deck of cards. We'd play for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It always made me feel better. He always made me feel better. Anyway... this is the first time we've actually celebrated a holiday since we became a team--"

"And the first time since Leonard's death." Zari finished, understanding washing over her.

"Don't get me wrong." Sara began. "In our line of work, we should be celebrating and enjoying the happy moments whenever we can. I just can't help but feel like he should be here, you know, keeping Mick in check... insulting Ray... pretending he doesn't care about anything." She finished wistfully.

"I've had a hard time enjoying life, myself, since I lost my brother." Zari informed her. "Sometimes are harder than others, but I just remind myself that he wouldn't want me to feel guilty or sad. He'd want me to move on with my life and be happy. That's part of the reason I joined this team, to honor him."

"That's very poetic," Sara told her. "but I've never been real big on poetry." She finished as she inhaled a big gulp of wine and tried not to think anymore about Leonard or what he may have wanted.

Before Zari could argue, Nate interrupted, "There you guys are! Come on, it's time for the contest!"

"Contest?" Zari queried, quirking a brow.

"The pie contest." Nate explained enthusiastically. "Ray and I both made pies and are about to have one crusty competition.

"Gross." Sara uttered at the same time Zari said, "Ew."

"Okay, yeah," Nate conceded. "That sounded better in my head. But trust me, the pie is going to be delicious. Well, at least mine is. I mean, Ray made some generic pumpkin pie, which is fine I suppose, you know, if you like that sort of thing, but my pie really takes the cake... peanut butter pie with chocolate ganache and whipped cream icing. I call it my 'buckeye pie" inspired by my hometown roots and my favorite sweet treat."

"Catchy." Sara said somewhat sarcastically.

Zari smirked then noted genuinely, "That actually sounds pretty good."

"Good?" Nate asked rhetorically. "Try totally amazeballs. Which brings me back to my earlier sentiment... come on! All you have to do is try a piece of each an fill out a secret ballot."

"Yeah, as fun as that sounds, I'm gonna pass." Sara said, swiping the unfinished bottle of wine from the counter. "I'll be enjoying my dessert in liquid form." She clarified, shaking the bottle for emphasis.

Nate just shrugged then looked to his other friend, "Zari, you in?"

"Hey, I never turn down free pie." She assured him.

"Sweet." Nate smiled, giving her two thumbs up before eagerly making his way back to the dining area.

Once he was out of sight, Zari turned to Sara, "Guess I should get back... you sure you don't want to come? It could be fun. You can keep Mick in check while I insult Ray, and we can both pretend we don't care about anything..." She trailed off. When Sara didn't respond, she bargained, saying, "Okay, fine, you can insult Ray, and I'll keep an eye on Mick."

Finally cracking a smirk, Sara answered, "Very tempting, but I'm pretty full."

"Yeah of bull." Zari stated matter-of-factly.

"I'll be in my room if you need me." Sara winked then waltzed off in the opposite direction of the dining area, pausing in the doorway a moment to take a long swig straight from the bottle of Merlot even though there was still some in her glass. "Later." She called over her shoulder one last time before heading toward the bunks.

Zari shook her head, not sure what to think or do about Sara. Shrugging it off for now, she decided to let herself think on it while she ate a slice of pie... or two or four. Man, did she love pie. Thanksgiving was definitely her favorite holiday.

******

About an hour later, Sara was lying on her bed while an empty wine bottle and glass lay on the floor. She had been staring at the ceiling, thinking about the ghosts of Thanksgivings past: cooking with her mom, watching football with her dad, and fighting with her sister, both playfully and not so playfully. She hadn't gotten to have a family Thanksgiving like that in a long time. As she casually twisted the silver band around her finger, she wondered if Leonard ever had, given his crappy childhood and all.

As her mind began to race with memories of both Thanksgiving and Leonard, a tear slid down her cheek. Just as another began to fall, a knock sounded at the door. Sara quickly wiped her face with her hands, then pushed up onto her elbows and called out, "Come in."

Zari appeared and leaned against the doorway with her hands casually wound behind her back.

"Feeling any better?" She questioned.

"Not really." Sara answered honestly.

"I figured." Zari retorted. "That's why I brought these." She added as she revealed a deck of playing cards in her hand. "You up for a game?" She added, shaking the deck temptingly.

"Sure." Sara said with a smile as she pushed up into sitting position. "As long as you're ready for an ass-kicking."

"Bring it on." Zari teased back as she made her way across the small room to Sara's bed. Plopping down on the opposite end, she sat pretzel style and began shuffling the cards.

Two games of Spit later, they were tied in wins when Amaya interrupted.

"There you two are." She stated in a relieved tone. "I thought I was going to drown out there in the sea of testosterone."

"Nonsense, you still had Ray." Zari jibed, tossing Sara a wink."

All three ladies laughed, then Amaya walked over to them as she responded, "Deal me in."

Soon all three of the women were playing cards, chatting and laughing as they did so. After a few rounds, Jax poked his head in and commented, "Thought I heard some actual fun going on back here."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Zari retorted. "From all the way in the dining room?"

"Okay..." Jax relented. "I may have been trying to hide when I heard some laughing."

"That bad, huh?" Sara smirked.

"Let's just say that I am officially regretting not going back to 2017 with Stein for the holiday." Jax sighed as he leaned against the doorway.

"Why don't you join us?" Amaya offered.

"Thanks, but I wouldn't want to interrupt girl talk." He responded only half serious.

"We don't mind." Amaya assured. "Besides, this is way more fun than the shit show out there." She nodded toward the door. Everyone just stared at her a moment and said nothing as Amaya shuffled the cards. Looking up at their surprised facial expressions, Amaya felt slightly embarrassed as she went on to add, "I'm still working on my 21st century lingo, did I not use that term correctly?"

Her teammates all chuckled at her response, but Sara was the one to speak up, saying, "No, I'd say that was pretty spot on."

"You in or what, flame-boy?" Zari tossed out, changing the subject back to the original topic.

"Only if we play five-card draw." Jax bargained.

"Deal." Sara nodded, reaching under her bed for her plastic chips.

Jax smiled and padded over to his friends as Amaya began to deal out the cards.

A few minutes later, Mick came barging in the room with a fresh beer in hand.

"You guys better have a good excuse for leaving me alone with bozo one and bozo two." Mick told them warningly.

"I think you just answered your own question there, big guy." Sara jeered.

Mick just grunted and said, "Touché... but the next time we decide to ditch the dimwits, I'm the first to know. Got it?"

"Alright Mick, that's enough." Zari reprimanded. "You gonna play or what?"

"Or maybe you just want to continue pouting in the corner." Amaya teased.

"Nobody puts Rory in a corner." Mick told them in no uncertain terms as he strode forward a couple of steps. No one had words for that one, but it didn't matter much because after a moment Mick nodded toward the cards and inquired, "What's the game?"

"Five-card. Think you can handle it?" Jax taunted. "Just saying, I've got quite the streak going.

Mick snorted, "I'll squash you like the firebug you are."

"Seriously? Your guys' nicknames for me are literally getting lamer by the minute." Jax whined.

"Quit complaining and deal already." Zari told him.

Jax began to do just that when Mick probed further, "What are the stakes?"

"You're looking at em'." Sara answered, flicking a chip through the air toward Rory.

Mick watched the red chip hit him in the chest and fall to the ground before saying, "Well, Mick Rory don't come cheap. We're gonna need to raise the bar."

"What did you have in mind?" Amaya asked curiously.

Mick held up a finger, indicating for them to wait a moment then took a long drag from his bottle as he turned and walked out the door and headed in the opposite direction from which he came.

"Ten bucks says he's not coming back." Zari said almost immediately.

"I'll take that bet." Sara replied, remembering that his only other viable option was going back to tweedle dee and tweedle dull.

About a minute later, Mick strolled back in with his beer and a large container in one hand and dragging a chair behind him with the other. As he positioned his seat, Zari pulled a crisp ten dollar bill from her pocket and reluctantly handed it over to a suddenly chipper Sara who made a big show of holding it up and checking for its authenticity. Mick ignored them, tossed his container to Amaya, and sat down.

"Cookies?" She questioned, staring at the tub in her arms. It was clear, huge, and filled to the brim with the black and white treat she couldn't quite remember the name of.

"Not just cookies... oreos." Mick amended. "Original and Double Stuf."

Sara caught Zari licking her lips and shook her head. How in the world can that girl still be hungry after the meal she just had? She didn't get the chance to voice this thought aloud though because Jax spoke up next.

"I agree with Amaya on this one. I'm pretty full myself." He noted as he finished up his deal and put the rest of the cards off to the side.

"No worries, heat lamp." Mick told him as he took swig of beer. "You only eat what you win, which in your case... will be nothing."

"Oh, it's gonna be like that, is it? Well, then... challenge accepted, my torrid twit."

"Jokes on you." Mick replied readily. "I have no idea what you said."

Everyone worked to stifle a laugh at that, while Mick, totally unperturbed, continued to drink his brew. With that, the conversation lulled as they set up the new "chips" and began a new round of game play.

Much to Jax's dismay and everyone else's amusement, Mick won the first two hands. In the middle of their third, Ray hurried into the room and slammed the door shut. "Thank god, I found you guys. Nate was seriously getting on my last nerve out there!"

"Oh, really?" Zari queried with a smile.

"Do tell." Sara urged with matching demeanor.

"Yes," Amaya agreed. "What is Nathaniel up to now?"

Unaware of their amusement, Ray continued seriously, "He's setting up another game. Another one! Can you believe it? I mean, I admire his holiday spirit and all, but the dude needs to chill. Between the cheesy games and his bubbly behavior, I think I'm about to O.D. on Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, we know the feeling." Jax commented as he took his turn.

"Seriously, though, I'm glad he's not normally this animated. Can you imagine being around someone that cheerfully annoying all the time?"

Suddenly all the legends in the room stopped to stare at Ray incredulously.

"What?" Ray questioned.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Sara answered for everyone, sparing his feelings.

"Well, you guys can't judge me because you all are clearly hiding from him too." Ray informed them, sensing some hostility from the gang. "But you can deal me in next round." He added as he dragged a small trunk over from the far wall and plopped down on it carefully.

And the team did just that. They managed to make some more room for Ray and caught him up to speed on the Oreos. From there, they played another round. Unfortunately, they didn't even get through one full game before Nate found them.

"There you guys are!" Nate said.

Everyone froze as they peeked over at their spirited friend. His expression was hard to read. Was he angry? Was he somber? Would he hate them all for ducking out on him?

Apparently, Nate didn't realize they had purposely ditched him or just didn't care because they next thing he did was smile and say, "The next game is ready! I call it 'What's in the Bag?' The rules are simple--"

"Stop right there." Sara commanded like the captain she was. "We don't need the rules, Nate. We're not playing."

"But you don't even know what the game's about." He tossed back.

"Don't need to. The thing is..." Sara retorted, trying to think of a way to gently explain how and why they don't like his Thanksgiving activities. Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, Mick took it upon himself to enlighten Nate.

"Look kid, your pie was great but your games suck ass." Mick clarified for him.

"Thanks, Mick." Sara responded, tone dripping with sarcasm.

He just nodded and popped a double stuf Oreo into his mouth all in one bite.

Sara rolled her eyes at Rory as Nate finally replied, "I'm sorry if I was overdoing it back there. The holidays just have a way of pumping me up... and with all the bad stuff going on these last few weeks, I just wanted us to have one good day for a change."

"We get it." Jax said.

"And today was pretty fun for the most part." Ray assured, though not everyone fully agreed, but they weren't about to tell Nate any different, including Mick, but that was mostly because he was busy enjoying his winnings.

"Really?" Nate asked, not really believing them.

"Really." Zari promised. "And the fun doesn't have to end now."

"Does that mean you wanna play the bag game after all?" Nate quirked a brow.

"No." Everyone called out simultaneously in forceful tones.

"Ouch." Nate said more to himself than to the audience in front of him, feeling the sting from that burn.

"But you can take a break from playing hostess with the mostest and join us for some cards and cookies." Amaya offered with a sweet smile.

Unable to resist Amaya's charm, and presence in general, Nate grinned and nodded, "I'd like that."

"So," Nate began as he interjected himself into the circle of players. "What are the rules?"

Sara grinned at his boy scout attitude then proceeded to give him the rundown. After that, it was all smooth sailing. They no longer had to worry about hiding or hurt feelings, nor did they have to pretend to enjoy themselves because they were genuinely having a good time, even Sara.

When Nate and Ray first came up with the idea of a friends-giving, Sara dreaded it. She hated it even more as it was happening in real-time... until now. In this moment, she was enjoying herself very much as she played her favorite game with some of her favorite people. It gave her hope, hope that she could still find happiness even with all that she had lost. It also reminded her that not every day had to wind up in total mayhem.

Just as Sara was truly accepting these happy thoughts and Mick was on the verge of his umpteenth win, a loud crashing noise sounded and the waverider tilted and shook.

"Everyone all right?" Nate asked immediately.

The team all gave various answers of yes, then Sara shouted, "Gideon! What the hell was that?"

"We've experienced a minor collision." Gideon stated monotonously.

"No shit." Mick grumbled, staring angrily at his broken beer bottle on the floor as Gideon went on.

"It seems a time pod has connected to one of the empty pod chambers." Gideon elaborated.

"Time pod?" Zari queried.

"Rip told me about those." Jax said. "They were for people from the outside who needed to get to ships like ours. You just plug in the coordinates of the ship into the pod and bam. Literally."

"Gideon," Sara called out once more. "Who found us?"

"I'm sorry, Captain Lance. I am unable to retrieve the pod's data." She replied diligently.

"It's okay, Gideon." She told the ceiling then turned toward her team and said, "I'm going to investigate. Everyone stay here."

"No way." Nate retorted. "It's too dangerous."

"Nate's right." Amaya agreed. "You don't know who or what is in there."

"It could be Damien Darhk." Ray warned. "Or some sort of time pirate."

"With rum." Mick noted. "Pirates love rum. Why couldn't I be a time pirate?"

"Mick's comment aside, they make good points. You need back up." Zari tossed in, summing up the group's concern.

"What I need is for my team to be out of harm's way." Sara said vehemently. "It's like you all said, anyone or anything could be in that pod, and I'm not going to risk your lives until I find out exactly what's going on and what we're up against. So, as your captain, I order you all to stay put. Got it?"

"Got it." They all agreed reluctantly.

Sara nodded then grabbed a military grade knife from under her pillow and headed to the pod bay.

A few seconds later, Mick stood up and said, "Well," then paused to grab his chair by its legs and pull hard until ripping one of them off. Once he had a single splintered chair leg in hand and discarded the rest, Mick continued, "What are we waiting for?"

With that, the rest of them secured their own weapons and followed Mick out after Sara, not hesitating in the least.

********

Sara made her way down various hallways toward the back of the ship. She was almost there when she heard a noise. Sensing someone was behind her, she whirled around instantly, using a fancy side-step motion to pin her pursuer to the wall with the knife pressed against his throat.

"Uncle! Uncle!" Ray cried out.

"I told you to stay behind me, haircut." Mick reminded teasingly.

"And I told you all to stay put!" Sara whisper-yelled as she freed Ray from her hold.

"Since when do we respect authority and follow the rules?" Nate tossed out, making a valid point.

"Fair enough." Sara relented. "Just be quiet and stay behind me." She told them before turning around and continuing on with mission at hand.

"Yeah, and you me." Mick said, shoving Ray behind him as he moved to follow his captain.

Ray rubbed his neck soothingly as he led the others in the same direction.

Sara finally found the room she was looking for down a dark and quiet corridor on the left side of the stern. She led the team inside the medium-sized area to find three more big, metal doors. These ones were air locked. Sara walked over to the only lit up door, figuring that was the right choice. Glancing back to see her whole team ready for a fight, she nodded then turned her attention back to the door and placed her hand on the palm scanner.

"Access granted. Visitor Arrived." Gideon spoke loud and clear then opened the door.

As the lights changed from red to green on the scanner, the door slid open, revealing a lifeless figure crumpled on the floor.

"Oh my god." Ray called out shockingly from behind Sara.

A second later, Mick uttered in surprise, "I'll be damned."

Sara barely registered their comments as she raked her eyes over the dark figure that lie before her. It wasn't a dark figure, but a person wearing dark clothes, a very familiar person.

Her heart was beating about a mile a minute and goose-bumps covered her skin as she softly uttered one, simple yet totally unbelievable word...

"Leonard."

#legends of tomorrow #dc's legends of tomorrow #a legendary thanksgiving #sara lance #captain canary #zari tomaz #amaya jiwe #mick rory #jefferson jackson #ray palmer #nate heywood #thanksgiving #surprise ending #sara x leonard #sara x zari #season 3 au

52 notes · View notes

sidon-reader-support · 7 years

Photo

(Thank you both for the compliments, I try to do my best for you guys so I’m glad you all are enjoying what I do~ Enjoy!~)

Crafted With Care

Word Count: 2016 Warnings: Fluff, Making armor is hard, Detective Sidon is on the case

Sidon had never been a big fan of keeping secrets especially not when they were being kept from him by you of all people.

He hadn’t noticed anything suspicious at first, he had been too preoccupied by his own Royal duties to even bat an eye whenever you excused yourself to run off and do some errands around the Domain. Considering how busy he was he knew that you would get bored so there was nothing out of the ordinary in you going off to entertain yourself. So long as you stayed safe and let him know that you were going out then he was satisfied to let you do as you pleased.

You could maintain your hobbies and learn new things about your home and the Zora could complete all of his work with peace of mind knowing that you were okay. However, lately things had felt rather off and Prince Sidon did not enjoy it one bit.

Most days now you would not even pop into his office or seek him out in the halls to let him know you would be going outside the palace today. He would just wake up in the morning to find a note or just the complete absence of your presence, the blankets left in their slept-in state like you had clearly been in a rush to leave. Even during his off time when their was no meetings to attend or paperwork to be done Sidon could not seem to find you. It was like you simply disappeared elsewhere during the day and locating you was almost impossible.

At first, Sidon figured that it wasn’t too big of the deal since you were free to do as you wanted and he knew he couldn’t be with you every moment of every day even though he wanted to be. However, as it continued to go on for quite some time the Zora became much more concerned that something else was going on and his mind started to fill with worry-fueled doubts that he simply could not shake off. Awful thoughts about why you left, where you went, who you were with and even though he knew that you would never do any of the horrible things that he was thinking of but he could not quell the tiny voice of doubt deep down.

Regardless, Sidon could never bring himself to step forward and ask you about your disappearances throughout the day fearing that he would only be pressing his own insecurities onto you and the last thing he wanted was to upset you because he couldn’t keep his queries in check. Not to mention that you always came back to him at the end of the day.

Sidon would stroll into the dining room down-hearted and saw you already sitting there and talking to his father, joking and laughing as the King is telling yet another embarrassing story about the younger Zora’s childhood.

Yet, the moment that he enters the large room you turn your attention to him and all of his worries are immediately abandoned in the doorway. You smile and wave him over so happy to see him that he instantly forgets what he had worrying about. You are here now, laughing and smiling with him like it is the best part of your day and he knows that it is his favorite part. He gets to see you after so long and after dinner you will follow him back to your shared bedroom. You are listening to him talk about his day and - although he can tell you are avoiding the Zora’s casual inquiries about your day - he is satiated seeing your tired face when both of you are tucked into bed. Sidon’s arms wrapped around your smaller frame and holding you close just staring at the lazy smile on your face when you cast your gaze up at him.

There was no way a smile so genuine, so sweet, so full of love and passion could be fake. That one smile was all he needed to tide him over to the next day where the cycle of doubt and worrisome wondering would begin again. Eventually it became like clockwork and, before the Prince even knew it, two months had passed and he finally realized how unbearable your absence had become. No longer was the time he saw you at dinner enough to soothe him, and not just because those and not because those encounters have shortened down to only a few moments before you rush off not to return until late in the evening - or so he hoped, he had never stayed up long enough in bed to figure out exactly what time you came back.

It was this combined with the fact that nowadays you were looking thoroughly exhausted every chance he got to see you. It had been bad enough to know that you were running off to nobody knows where but something that was affecting your health was the last straw.

With that thought, Sidon resolved to figure out exactly what was going on with you.

Tonight.

So that night, midway through dinner just as the Zora Prince was working up the courage to try and ask you what was going on you push your chair back and stand up - though you clearly have quite a bit of food left on your plate - and excuse yourself from the table before scurrying out of the dining hall. Sidon waited until he heard the doors close before he also excused himself.

King Dorephan looked at him inquisitively but then nodded his head giving him permission to leave but not before offering him some words of advice, “Communication is a key part of any relationship, a simple question and a little trust goes a long way.”

Sidon gazed up at his father stuck halfway through standing up taken aback by the words but he slowly regains his composure managing a nod in his father’s direction before fully excusing himself from the table and making his way out the door. His father’s words echoed in his mind as he cautiously proceeded down the hall keeping an eye out for you, surely you could not have gone far. Sure enough he spotted you just a little ways down the hall talking to… Muzu?

Sidon pressed his back to the wall so as not to be seen, his mind racing with new theories and questions about what you could possibly talking about with the right hand of the King. You and Muzu had never hated each other though he was not too fond of, “another Hylian intruding in Zora royalty,” but that was long ago when the two of you had only just met. Now there were no ill feelings between the two of you but you never really interacted, especially with Sidon or the King not present.

What in Hylia’s name would make you want to leave dinner so early just to talk to Muzu?

Listening closely, the Prince tried to answer his question but he could only make out a few words when your voices started to get quieter and more distant until he realized that you were on the move now. Quickly he sprung into action being as careful and quiet as possible so as not to draw any attention to himself, if he was spotted now things would not end well.

So he followed at a safe distance until you stopped outside of one of the rooms and then disappeared inside, Muzu however turned away about to head back in the direction that he had just come from which unfortunately happened to be wear Sidon was standing. “Ah, Muzu, what brings you this way…?” He said trying to sound like he hadn’t just been caught tailing the advisor.

Muzu seemed to just sigh and shake his large head holding his hands behind his back as he walked toward the Prince looking up with squinted eyes. “Guess you found out. Hope you were not expecting anything spectacular, but she tried and that’s an improvement,” the elder man huffed before hobbling past the Prince mumbling, “for a Hylian,” as he moved down the hall.

Blinking, Sidon only found himself even more confused by the elder man’s words, nobody was making any sense tonight and it was starting to become a little frustrating. Nonetheless, it seemed like all the answers he was seeking were hidden behind this door so all he needed to do was step in and everything would finally click.

He gripped the doorknob firmly then pushed it open slowly stepping into the room and calling out to you as his head poked through and surveyed the small room - a foyer room but all of the furniture had been pushed closer to the walls - in the center of which was you with paper patterns and various materials spread out on the floor all around a large armor stand donning a few pieces that resembled the suit that Mipha had crafted for Link. Only when you scrambled to get off of the floor and try to stand in front of the armor and block it from his view that Sidon finally understands what is going on.

“My love, is this what you’ve been working on?” The question makes you blush and then sigh knowing that you can’t hide it anymore and Sidon feels a little guilty seeing how disappointed you look to have been found out.

You nod your head stepping away hesitantly from the stand so that Sidon can approach and look over your work; it’s not much it seems like you had only just begun to actually construct everything but judging from the various patterns and pages of notes he understands why. Most of your time must’ve been spent studying how to make the armor since he knew you were definitely no expert when it came to the craft, especially not the Zora variety.

The armor - a hat, gloves, and arm bracers - look like they were obviously made by an amateur and Muzu’s words replay in his head as he reaches out to run his thumb along the uneven and rather clumsily-molded metal guard on the hat. Clearly not done by a professional but also clearly made with lots of care and effort. One glance in your direction and he can see all of this in your eyes that are staring at his finger worriedly because you know you have done so much work this past few months just to get this far.

“Darling,” your eyes flicker up to him before reaching out to pull his hand back from the armor piece, “Were you making this for me?”

Your brow quirks and you look at him with a frown like the answer was obvious. “Who else would I be making a suit of armor for? It’s a tradition for all Zora females to make one for their partners, this was supposed to be a surprise.” You shot him a pointed look and the Prince smiles sheepishly feeling a little foolish about his suspiciousness now that he knew the true reason.

You went on to explain to Sidon how you had managed to get so far; researching from various books of past designs in the library, seeking out examples such as Link’s armor bestowed upon him by his sister, even going so far as to ask the elders - who had never been too particularly fond of Hylians in the domain, especially not after Mipha - for assistance. It was clear to the Prince that you had put in a significant amount of effort for his sake so even though your project was not perfect according to the book, he could not be more proud of you.

Without warning he lifts you up off the ground spinning around with you in his arms. “S-Sidon…! Be careful! You’re going to knock something over!” You warned though he could still hear the laughter in your voice, clearly just as unable to be upset over such an amusing turn of events.

#muzu actually kind of does something #whoo~#ficlet #sidon ficlet #sidon #prince sidon #zora kingdom #zora traditions #botw #breath of the wild #Crafted With Care

181 notes · View notes

whatdoyouexpectthistime · 7 years

Text

‘Choosing Sides’ Part Twenty-seven - Why Are You Stopping?

It rained for three days without stop, and finally on the fourth, the sun came out. But warmth was stolen by solemnity, by the slow moving, darkly attired procession, weaving their way behind a shiny black hearse.

Kyobashi cast a sideways glance at Nomura, whose face was set like stone, his eyes fixed forward upon the flower covered coffin in the vehicle they trailed. Likewise, on his other side Kirisawa’s expression reflected the same concentrated stoicism, though others were already sobbing.

“I fuckin’ hate this shit,” Tennoji muttered under his breath, emotion threatening to spill over as everyone gathered at the gravesite.

“No one likes funerals,” Hanai hissed.

“Yeah, well I hate this one more than usual,” Tennoji sniffed.

Poignant words were spoken in voices choked by sorrow and grief – hands clenched into fists, desires flaring for revenge, eyes burning. And when the coffin lowered slowly, many who had held so tightly to their composure finally lost it.

“You going to the wake?” Kirisawa sighed when only a few people lingered in the cemetery, and Nomura rubbed his hand over his face in an uncommon display of exhaustion.

“No,” he exhaled, “but you guys go ahead.”

“Then you should get some rest,” Kirisawa suggested with a concerned frown. “You’ve hardly slept since…”

“I’ll sleep when…”

Then Nomura’s phone rang, and he answered to end the conversation.

“What?” he snapped, not even looking who the caller was, hell for all he knew it was a superior. “Just now? I’ll be right there.”

Kirisawa looked at him with a questioning eyebrow raised, but Nomura didn’t even look at him, he just turned and ran.

Unceremoniously, Nomura slammed his hand against the painted blue door and it swung inward, hitting the doorstop with a loud thud.

One head turned sharply, eyes narrowed judgementally, while the other looked over a lot more languidly.

“This is a hospital Deputy Chief,” Kaga dropped sourly.

But Kaga may as well not be in the room at all.

Nomura moved straight to the bedside, snatched up Miho’s hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

“You make it pretty hard for a guy to look cool doing a rescue when you want to wrestle terrorists,” he told her breathlessly.

“We were having a moment,” Kaga frowned, and finally Nomura actually looked at him, eye to eye as the Captain stood.

“I appreciate you keeping her company, Captain,” Nomura smiled, thrusting his hand at the other man. “But I can take it from here.”

“Excuse me?” Kaga responded, frown becoming a scowl.

“I’m sure, no, I know you have terrorists to interrogate still,” Nomura added, his tone and expression unchanged, even as Kaga stood.

“Captain,” Miho said weakly, and Kaga looked down into her face, then back at Nomura before backing away.

The lines across his forehead remained, but he nodded; perhaps in that one word she’d spoken, the word she’d chosen to use, told him he’d lost for good, and her hand in Nomura’s indicated to whom.

With a nod, Kaga completed his strategic withdrawal without bluster, closing Nomura and Miho in the hospital room together. Silence ensued, the pair just looking at each other, until Nomura leaned down slowly, watching her face closely for any alarm.

“When I heard the shots,” he whispered, resting his weight on the hand he placed to one side of her pillow, “saw your body just… tumble…”

He swallowed, suddenly swept away by the memory.

“Miho!” Nomura yelled, firing upon the man Miho had been grappling with.

Other gunfire rang out, some belonging to the police, some the terrorists, but Nomura made a straight path, beyond the man he’d disabled, to where Miho’s body had come to a stop.

Face down.

At the water’s edge.

“No no no,” he shuddered, skidding down on his knees, tearing through the fabric of his suit pants. “Miho?”

Rolling her over revealed confirmation of what he’d seen and heard. Blood leaked through her blouse, soaked the material through.

“Answer me,” he demanded, pressing his hands down over the wounds. “Miho answer me!”

“I’m sorry,” she exhaled, so quietly he’d not have heard her if he’d not been stooped so closely.

Her eyes peeked open, just a fraction, but that was all Nomura got.

She stared through those tear leaking eyes, through him, through everything, and continued to stare.

“No!” he shouted, frantically calling for medical aid before checking for breath and pulse.

But she didn’t respond.

“You were dead,” he said, almost against her lips.

“I heard you, calling my name,” she smiled faintly, his brown eyes shimmering with tears just above her.

“God, I thought you were gone,” he hissed.

The relieved warmth of his lips on hers was restrained, as restrained as he could manage considering what he really wanted was to wrap her firmly up in his arms and squeeze.

“Kaga said,” Miho sighed when they disengaged, and Nomura sat where Kaga had been, still holding her hand, “an officer was killed.”

With a sigh, Nomura nodded.

“Yeah,” he affirmed. “The bad guys came out swinging, and he was unlucky.”

Closing her eyes, Miho took a slow breath, as deeply as she could though it hurt.

“That’s not fair,” she murmured.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “And I know saying it’s a potential hazard of the job isn’t likely to make you feel any better, but it was his choice, to do what was right, to be one of the good guys.”

With a gentle swipe, Nomura caught the tear that race over Miho’s cheek before it could hit the pillow.

“And the terrorists?” she managed, opening swimming eyes.

“I should have aimed for where that bastard’s heart should have been,” Nomura asserted. “But I didn’t. Now, he’ll have to pay for what he’s done.”

“Assuming the American’s don’t want him,” Miho pointed out, trying to compose herself.

“They can have him after we’re done,” Nomura sniffed, then looked over his shoulder at the door and back again. “Um… I know this is a bit off topic but, you said some things while I was listening, and I get here and Oresama Kaga is sitting…”

“No,” Miho answered. “No we never… I just needed a way to seem useful; you said buy time.”

“I did,” he agreed. “Not that you could, you know, with him, if you wanted to I just…”

“Nobu, I didn’t have sex with Kaga,” she stated more plainly.

But it was difficult to be glad Nomura seemed to feel the way he did when someone had died. Since the moment Kaga told her, Miho’s mind had been turning the officer’s death over and over.

What else could she have done? Could she have not called Nomura and still saved herself?

“Hey,” Nomura prompted, asserting his presence to the back of her hand once more. “You can’t change the past.”

“I know,” she exhaled, her eyes shooting to the door when it opened and Eisuke Ichinomiya walked in without welcome.

“Mr. Ichinomiya,” Nomura frowned, rising to his feet.

“Relax, Deputy Chief,” Eisuke smirked in his usual way, lifting the modest bunch of flowers he’d brought with him. “I’m merely here to congratulate Miss Fujiwara on a successful outcome.”

“A good man is dead, Ichinomiya!” Miho exclaimed, sitting up a little in anger before flopping back with a grimace.

“Now is not the time, nor is this the place to gloat,” Nomura told him flatly.

“Gloat?” Eisuke repeated. “No, I just wanted to thank Miss Fujiwara for playing her part. Now we can all sleep a little more soundly.”

“Or you might if you still had a penthouse to sleep in,” Miho jabbed. “Thanks for the flowers, but I’d like you to leave.”

“You heard the lady,” Nomura encouraged.

“Oh? A lady, is that what she is?”

Nomura fought the urge to ruffle.

Eisuke poked again.

“Of course she wouldn’t have told you what she did in the pursuit of…”

“How you promised her an evening free of impropriety then pressured her to join you in the hot tub?” Nomura interrupted. “Actually, I’ve read her report, and cannot for the life of me think why terrorists would target such a fine, wholesome, upstanding citizen such as yourself. Thank you for stopping by, I’m sure you’re a very busy man.”

Eisuke’s upper lip twitched as Nomura held out his hand for the flowers, that Eisuke shoved at him.

“Here’s hoping your recovery is incident free,” he said dryly, then made his exit.

“I hate that smug asshole,” Miho growled.

“Yeah, there’s a whole lot not right about him,” Nomura seconded. “You called out to warn me of a sniper, and you weren’t wrong,” he went on. “Except he had already taken a bullet. Furthermore, Dr. Himuro put his time of death not long after you arrived at the steelworks.”

“How?” Miho queried with a mild frown as Nomura sat again. “You think Ichinomiya had something to do with it?”

“Maybe,” he grunted, tossing the flowers in the bin before lacing his fingers through hers. “Rest assured, I’ll be looking into it.”

Relaxing, absorbing the warmth of Nomura’s palm pressed to hers, Miho closed her eyes.

“Yeah, you should sleep,” he smiled, stroking her hair gently. “I’ll stay for a while.”

“You have work,” she murmured, the light dance of his fingers soothing her heart.

“Work can wait for a while,” he told her softly. “I just want to sit here and touch you.”

When Miho woke next, Nomura was gone, but he’d left her a little note saying he’d check in as soon as he could.

With just the muffled sound of people talking and feet shuffling outside, Miho had plenty of time to think.

Nomura forgave you, but what does that mean?

She’d called for him to save her and he had, and though she’d been shot, twice in fact – and should have stayed dead – he had kept his promise. His kiss reignited memories of the steamy encounters of their past – passionate, burning, quivering – but the reason why she’d walked away also surfaced.

She felt ashamed of allowing her fear to hurt him, to dictate her life.

But you’re not like that now. You stood for something – in the face of Eisuke, in the face of Kaga, down the barrel of a gun. So if he’d take you back, if he really could… is that what you want?

Others visited during her hospital stay – Goto, Ishigami, even Genever, but there were some who stayed away. Baba called and apologised for not being able to drop in, something about a job overseas. Kaga called, but Miho could tell Nomura had made an impression on him by his tone of voice, the impression there was no room for a Public Safety captain in her romantic life.

After thirteen days, Miho was going stir crazy, just itching to get home.

She’d been advised her recovery could take as long as eight weeks, during which time she would be heavily restricted with what she should physically do.

“I’ll make sure she takes it easy,” Nomura declared when the doctor was done explaining, and Miho shot him an unsure look.

He had insisted on picking her up and taking her home, and though Miho felt maybe she should have argued, she didn’t.

“You just make yourself comfortable,” he said when they entered, and he carried her bag into the bedroom.

It felt strange, that he acted as if they had never broken up, and Miho wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with it or not, regardless of her attraction.

“Nobu, I can do that much,” she muttered, following after him at a tentative pace.

“I’m not so old I don’t remember where all your stuff goes,” Nomura snorted, glancing back. “Hey, you’re supposed to be taking it easy. You want to end up back in the hospital?”

“I’m walking… I can walk,” she scowled, but in spite of her effort winced when her toe caught on the rug and she stumbled a little.

Immediately Nomura rushed forward and took her elbows, helping her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Okay, I surrender,” she grimaced with a careful sigh, and Nomura took her head in his hands, standing before her.

“You going to let me take care of you?” he smirked down at her.

“You don’t have time to look after an invalid,” she pointed out, but the brush of his little fingers just behind her ears caused her skin to heat up.

“Eh, I’ve got some leave,” he told her, “so don’t fight me.”

“You going to take leave from organising mixers too?” she enquired.

She could have said it with cheek, but it was a probing question designed to make him ask himself if he wanted to give up that freedom by sliding back into a relationship with her.

“Do I want to give up being a bachelor in order to be with, and take care of someone I care about deeply?” he rephrased, then grinned that bright, confident grin. “Eh, the mixers haven’t been fun since we set the bar so high that night in the bathroom.”

“Oh god,” Miho chuckled, then gasped again.

“Okay, it’s into bed, or onto the couch for you,” he ordered, and with that, his caretakership was decided.

Though he spent a fair amount of time on the phone telling people how to cope without him, Nomura temporarily moved into Miho’s apartment. He slept on the couch, he wasn’t so presumptuous as to think he could join Miho in the bedroom, and even if he had been, he didn’t want to disturb her sleep.

It took but days for that lingering uncomfortable doubt to evaporate from Miho’s mind and heart, leaving her wonder at the stupidity of letting him go in the first place. But he’d come back to her, and that was totally amazing.

He’d been gone twenty minutes or so when the doorbell rang, and rising from where she’d been sitting at the dining table, Miho went to answer it. She was surprised when she peered through the peephole at who she saw standing there, and knew this was written on her face when she opened the door.

“Ambassador,” Miho blinked, then hazarded a smile when he lifted a bunch of flowers – a bunch, mind you, by far more elaborate than those Eisuke had brought her at the hospital.

“For a woman who was shot twice at close range, you look remarkably well, Miss Fujiwara,” he smiled thinly, offering the bouquet.

“Thank you,” she smiled, taking the flowers and backing up a step. “Please, come in.”

With a nod, Hishikura took up her offer and entered her apartment.

“Tea?” she asked.

“Please,” he replied, scanning her living space quickly before following her to the kitchen. “It would seem you are most resilient. You have survived quite an ordeal.”

“Mmm,” Miho murmured, filling the electric jug before turning it on. “I had a little help along the way,” she elaborated, turning to look into his face.

“Oh?” he queried in an offhand tone.

“Will you deny you sent me to USB?” she asked him directly.

The kettle bubbled away behind her.

“If I did, it would mean you are quite indebted to me,” he mused, removing a handkerchief from his pocket, taking off his glasses and cleaning them casually. “You don’t find that concept, uncomfortable?” he questioned, positioning the glasses back against his face.

“I don’t especially like to owe people,” Miho responded slowly. “But I will pay what’s due.”

“Still an idealist, even now?” Hishikura smirked, then pointed. “The kettle has boiled.”

“Leave it to a politician to misdirect,” Miho grumbled, but she thought his reluctance to admit he’d helped her was not entirely about protecting himself from the admission he’d had access to the information all along.

Perhaps he thinks I’ve already paid enough?

“Merely pointing out a fact,” he disagreed lightly.

“You know,” she said brightly, changing the subject as she made their tea, “when I’m back at one hundred percent I’m going to need a new job. I don’t suppose you know anyone looking for a foolhardy bilingual crusader with rudimentary law enforcement experience?”

At this Hishikura actually laughed.

“Sadly, I already have a secretary,” he said. “I think that role would suit you well.”

Then his smile twisted a little.

“Perhaps you should ask Ichinomiya?”

Dropping the spoon on the countertop with a clang, she turned with both cups and motioned back out to the living room.

“I don’t think it will come as any surprise to you, that I’d rather take another bullet than ask Ichinomiya Eisuke for anything,” she told him, handing him his cup once he was seated.

“But you’d ask me?” he continued, raising an eyebrow.

“I did,” she affirmed, carefully lowering herself onto the couch before continuing. “However, I am aware, though I don’t know the specific details, that you and Ichinomiya are connected. I believe he knew the information I was looking for was always in the Tres Spades.”

“So, by your theory, if I did send you the USB, I must have acquired it from him?” he posed, then took a sip of his tea.

“It’s a distinct possibility,” she nodded slowly, blowing across the top of her cup, creating hazy swirls of steam. “And, if you do have some shady connection to that asshole, I suggest you distance yourself.”

“Oh?” he prompted yet again, not looking the slightest bit bothered by Miho’s suggestions.

“I have it on good authority that the police will be looking into Ichinomiya’s affairs,” Miho revealed, making meaningful eye contact. “Even the rumour of being investigated could be very damaging to a reputation and a career.”

“I appreciate you offering a warning,” he smiled slightly. “But it truly is not necessary.”

“I hope that’s true, I really do,” she told him honestly. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you, Ambassador, but I think, you are more of an idealist than you’d admit.”

“I suppose anything is possible,” he responded evasively, and Miho didn’t push for more.

It was enough he’d come to say hello and wish her well.

When he was gone, Miho relaxed on the couch and ultimately fell asleep. It was to a gentle sensation against her hair and the quiet whisper of her name close to her ear.

“Mmm, sorry, guess I just konked out,” she muttered, stretching carefully.

“What are you apologising for?” Nomura chuckled, sitting down next to her.

Groggily she rested her head against his shoulder and exhaled a long breath.

“I can’t believe you’re still here,” she told him.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, moving his arm across her shoulders.

Tilting her head, she looked into his face – so close.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly,” he confirmed.

“I honestly don’t,” she admitted. “Aside from the being shot part, having you here, in my life, my space every day has been… it’s what I was so afraid to lose I ran away before I could hold it again, and now… I don’t want to let it go.”

“Who says you have to?” he smiled. “Miho, I’m not just here because you were injured and need a bit of help, I’m here because I want to be here, close to you, in your space, every day.”

He gave her a soft squeeze and silence fell over them – not awkward, but comfortable, until Nomura broke it.

“So… um… think maybe I could… sleep in the bed tonight?”

Explosively Miho laughed, then cringed.

“Ow ow,” she chuckled. “You know I’m surprised you’ve lasted so long on the couch.”

“If I’m honest, I’ve been taking power naps at my desk,” he admitted sheepishly. “I can leave my toothbrush next to yours in the bathroom too, right?”

“Yeah,” Miho grinned. “I’ll even let you have an itty, bitty fraction of my wardrobe space.”

“Oh how very generous,” he sniffed.

“Uuuuh,” Miho stretched again, her legs this time. “Huh, I’ve been loafing around so much I think I’m not used to being on my feet much.”

“Sore?” he asked, and Miho nodded, only to have him slip from the couch and sit on the floor before her.

“Nobu, you’re tired,” Miho protested when he pulled her slippers off, and pressed his thumb under the arch of her left foot. “You don’t…”

“Just let me pamper you,” he argued, smoothing against her skin, over her heel, up her ankle and then back down again.

“If I start snoring, you can’t blame me then,” Miho muttered, then sighed, resting her head back against the couch cushions.

“If you do that, I might have to do something to keep you more, stimulated,” he grinned, and Miho’s eyes shot open.

In response to what he interpreted as shock, Nomura lifted his hands, but this caused Miho to sit up a little more and scowl.

“Why the are you stopping?” she grumbled. “I want you to touch me.”

The smile that bloomed on Nomura’s face spread warm fuzzies all throughout Miho’s body.

“Just, you know, be mindful I’m still a bit…” she began.

“Fragile, I know,” he nodded. “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

There was something magical about the kneading sensation of long, strong fingers, the soft sound of his skin creating friction against hers, and the quietness of their breathing.

When he felt the tension leave her feet, Nomura crept up her calves, his hands disappearing beneath the comfy slacks she was wearing. His thumbs dug long strokes up and down the muscles, lightly brushing behind her knees with his thumbs, and Miho shivered.

“Who knew what I really wanted in my life all this time, was a live in massager butler,” she exhaled in a luxurious sigh.

“Just a massage butler?” he queried, venturing further upward, but soon found himself restricted at the elbow.

Miho bit her lip to stifle a giggle.

“You look ridiculous right now,” she grinned. “Where’s my phone?”

“Back pocket maybe?” he offered withdrawing his arms. “Here, let me help you look.

Rocking to his knees, Nomura reached for the sash at Miho’s waist and tugged it free before sliding her pants over her hips until she lifted her bottom a little off the couch.

“Careful,” he warned as he dragged her pants to her ankles and then away completely.

“I’m not that fragile,” she muttered.

“Sure you are,” he disagreed.

“And yet you’re still going to…”

She gasped when he lightly placed his hands on her hips, teasing the band of her underwear with his thumbs.

“I can’t help it,” he admitted guiltily. “I’m hungry – but if I hurt you…”

“You won’t,” she said, no doubt in her voice at all. “You’re not the only one with an appetite.”

“Oh?” he hummed, slithering his fingertips over her abdomen before ever so lightly tracing the line of her slit, still hidden behind dark purple panties.

The last time Miho had had intimate contact, had been with Baba what seemed like so long ago, and that had been born of anger and frustration at Kaga. She hadn’t even had time to satisfy herself, and so even the gentlest touch mixed with desperate anticipation, caused Miho to shudder and her breath to catch.

“I missed the way you suck in your breaths, the way you hold it,” he told her, eyes fixed on her face as he caressed slowly, pressing just hard enough to graze the hood of her clit with each pass. “The way you want it so badly but try to hold back.”

“You make it impossible,” she swallowed, trying to resist squirming against him.

“I just want to hear you…” he began, and she finished for him.

“Sing your name, right?”

“The sweetest sound of all,” he beamed, digging his forefinger right in between her folds, causing her increasing moisture to soak through the fabric in a dark line.

“I disagree,” she breathed, attempting to keep each inhale and exhale even. “The way you moan, while biting on my earlobe, that is the sweetest sound.”

“We’ll have to agree, to disagree,” he began, leaning forward to kiss the white of her inner thighs and run his tongue between her legs with maddening tenderness.

Of their own accord, Miho’s hands slunk to Nomura’s head, her fingers sliding through the soft tousle of his hair until she felt a fingertip loop under the elastic of her panties and slither to the source of her arousal.

A sharp breath hissed in through Miho’s teeth as he probed around her entrance, teasing no further, before pulling back.

“Still okay?” he asked her, and Miho made a displeased face.

“You just want me to bed, don’t you?” she grumbled, pushing down her underwear impatiently, wriggling until he helped her out.

“You’ll make a mess on the couch,” he smirked, twirling the discarded garment around.

“It’s washable,” she retorted triumphantly.

“Hmm, well in that case…”

Nomura lowered his head once more and Miho spread her legs. His face fit snuggly between them and his lips pressed around her clit. Slowly he increased the pressure of his tongue, before sucking her progressively sensitive nub into her mouth.

In response, Miho’s stomach muscles tightened and her ass lifted a little off the couch to push against him, but this caused the pull of stitches in her upper body, forcing her to sit back.

“Damnit,” she cursed breathily, as Nomura began to lap up her crease in long strokes, and she dug her fingernails into her own thighs. “Go deep, Nobu,” she hissed out, biting her lip. “You know exactly where to… to…”

Her sentence broke off when he pushed his pointer finger inside her, all the way to the knuckle, and her reflex was to clench him tightly.

“I wish… I wish…” she panted, and Nomura lifted his face, wet with her desire for him.

“I know what you wish,” he grinned, carefully adding a second finger and examining her expression. “And it’s what I want too, but for now, we’ll have to be content with this.”

“Content me harder,” she begged, and licking his lips, Nomura complied.

Occasionally Miho felt the twinge of her wounds, but the tangle of sexual frustration that had built over her campaign to get back the dangerous information, had been set ablaze. His slightly upward, deep digging thrusts and the flicker of his tongue over and around her clit, dulled everything else, everything except the thrumming urgency of her heartbeat and the storm of quivering pleasure gathering in her flesh. Her toes curled as a second finger joined the first, and Nomura lifted his eyes to take in the bliss of her expression.

She was biting her lip fiercely and digging her nails into the couch cushion, her chest rising and falling in quick succession which actually made him pause.

“What?” she whimpered breathlessly.

“Maybe…” he began, but she cut him off curtly.

“Please Nobu, make me come, let me come,” she begged, hazy eyes imploring, body quivering.

“If you pop your stitches, you know, this was a bad…” he said, but his voice was softly teasing.

“The only thing likely to pop, is you, after I wrap my fingers around you thick, hard, throbbing…”

“Jesus,” Nomura muttered.

“And my lips, tracing with my tongue,” Miho continued, carefully buking her hips against his stationary fingers still buried inside her.

“Damnit Miho,” he groaned, shifting his position a little to try and relieve some of the pressure in his pants – unsuccessfully. “Hold on then.”

With renewed vigour he drove into her, and Miho grit her teeth, the flames he stoked within her clawing furiously toward an inferno that filled every part of her until it reached and breached all limits.

With her mouth wide, breath held, her entire body clenched in painful ecstasy, quivering against Nomura’s lips still clamped over her clit, while he brushed her core with his fingertips as she rode out her orgasm.

When she finally gasped in a breath, Nomura lifted his head, but remained deep inside her warmth. That face, he knew though she had hurt him terribly, was the one he still loved, wanted to keep loving – he really had forgiven her.

“Oh God,” Miho hissed sharply, swallowing. “God… Nobu… that…”

“Shhh,” he whispered, lapping away the rush of moisture she’d produced before sitting up on the couch next to her. “You break anything?”

“Oh… oh maybe, but…”

She shivered and lolled her head to the side, against his shoulder, and took up his wrist, guiding his fingers into her mouth. Her own taste was tangy across her tongue, a pleasant flavour representing Nomura’s power over her.

“You’ve always been good with your mouth,” he approved, then murmured a low moan when she placed her palm against the strain of his erection, ghosting her fingers over the barely contained mountain still trapped in his pants.

“And my hands,” Miho declared around his fingers, her touch still so feathery light, and Nomura began to squirm.

So funny, that a man in such an important role, could be made to wriggle like that with just the softest touch.

Taking her time, Miho finally release some of the pressure, then dug her hand into Nomura’s underwear to reveal the impressiveness of his cock.

“I missed this,” Miho sighed, wrapping her hand around him and sliding slowly to the tip.

The anticipation she met there slicked her fingers, allowing her palm to glide effortlessly down the pulse of his veined shaft.

“Not as much as I have,” he breathed, deeply, filling her lungs.

When she began to tilt however, to lean toward his lap, he stopped her.

“No,” he told her firmly. “You really will hurt yourself.”

Miho emitted a soft huff, and increased the speed of her caress, the strength of her grip, occasionally pausing to outline his head with her thumb. And she smiled at the quickening of his breath, the way he lifted off the couch into her hand, and she imagined him thrusting it inside her – stretching, filling, warming her from the inside.

“I want you inside me so much,” she whined.

“When you’re… when… you’re healed,” he grated out through his teeth, his abs tensing against her wrist and she knew he was close.

“And I want to be on my knees,” Miho continued, herself a little breathless again, “looking up into your eyes as I suck your balls into my mouth, as I…”

“Miho…” he croaked, but she didn’t stop.

“… as I slither my tongue, just the pointed tip against the base of your cock, press it flat as I glide it up, then wrap my lips around your head and suck.”

“Fuu…”

He couldn’t form words after that. He lifted himself to meet each downward motion she made until his movements became erratic. Breathy mutterings accompanied the product of his orgasm, spurting messily over his pants, his abdomen and all over Miho’s hand. And she held him until she felt him soften, smiling despite the ache of her upper body thanks to the stain – but it was totally worth it.

“You always make such a beautiful mess,” Miho grinned. “Of both of us.”’

Nomura couldn’t yet respond, his mind still reeling, his body alive with the afterglow of their energetic intimacies.

“Ha… sounds like we need to shower,” he said finally, using his feet to push down his trousers until he could kick them off.

“Sounds like we do,” Miho agreed.

Together they washed, Nomura reaching places Miho couldn’t, careful not to disturb the waterproof dressings that covered her wounds. Neither said anything about them, just content to have hands on one another, to be with one another.

THE END

Thank you to those who helped me along the way! <3

@hifftn @ladystar0710 @nitelotus @belxsar @smutmylifeup @smile-smile-ichthys @mirandaflamel

#voltage inc #voltage otome #voltage games #her love in the force #hlitf #metro pd: close to you #mpdcty #voltage fanfic #hlitf fanfic #mpdcty fanfic #nomura tadanobu #hiroshi kirisawa #kaga hyogo #nomura smut

6 notes · View notes

cryamore · 7 years

Text

MINI UPDATE PART 1: Backer-only Discord Server Questions

Mirroring a recent Kickstarter update over here on Tumblr to try and keep all the social outlets up to date.

This has to be split into two parts because Tumblr only allows five embedded videos per post.

Thanks for everyone’s comments and support on the previous Kickstarter backer only update! A good number of people have joined the Cryamore Backer Discord server that I started up.

We’ve got about 132 members on there right now and it may grow a bit more once I send out the invite to the Paypal backers as a means to get them caught up with what’s been going on behind the backer-only posts. I just have to mirror the backer-only posts in somewhere like Dropbox for their prolonged perusal and prepare a short list of Q&A in case they have any queries and I’ll send out this draft I’ve done.

With that said, I wanted to make a short update reiterating questions gathered from the Discord channels and sharing some of the things we feel we can have non-backers see since it won’t spoil the game... too much.

FoolishWolf asked: I guess my first question is if it is possible to give an ETA on the project at this point?

Rob: We want to be finished this year. We're currently in the "Polish" phase where all the moving and working parts are in, it's just a matter of cleaning up presentation, major bugs, and final art.

Alan: There are going to be gameplay polishes too as we go along. The mechanics we've got are now all adjusted to any suggestions we've taken in from our publisher's testing but we'd like to see if during the backer tests, anyone feels it could be improved further.

That's fair. I guess this is just the marketer in me, but is there gifs and videos that maybe you can release for the community for #Indiedevhour and #screenshotsaturday that we share around. Kinda get the hype train going?

Rob: We want to get back into doing more of that, yeah. Now that we're polishing stuff up.

Alan: We'll be sharing stuff as often as we can on Discord which we'll then pool together for the mini updates.

Clay | Terminally Nerdy asked:

Once the game is in a “playable” preview state, would you all want someone to stream/talk about it?

We’re absolutely okay with it as this would help reinforce the fact that the game is legit. We’ll make sure to mark which builds are public ready.

Can you get Atlus to port the Persona series to PC, and will Jack Frost be in the game?

We sadly don’t have that kind of pull but I personally would like to see the Persona series on PC too.

Phosphatide asked:

How close is it to the proposed "40+ tracks" from the Kickstarter?

We’re pretty much within the forty track count already. I’ll share surasshu’s answer here as it’s better to hear it from one of our composers.

here's a link to a larger version (just adjust the zoom) in case Kickstarter decides to shrink the whole thing to an unreadable point.

fpwong asked:

What do ppl usually use for programming AI in Unity? UE4 has inbuilt behaviour trees but idk if unity has anything of the sort.

Alan: We’re not sure about other people using Unity but for us, we’ve been using a mix of C# and FlowCanvas/NodeCanvas to achieve an easily tweakable AI system. It’s the same thing we used to set up our cutscene/dialogue system too, so it’s multipurpose!

youtube

Rob: This video is quite outdated though; It’s mostly the dialogue on example there and a few older bugs but that shows how the dialogue tree is set up, how it can control objects to walk away from the scene, change sprites and more.

Brendan (luigimeistersa) asked:

Hey dev guys. Does Cryamore have any kind of buffs you can apply to Esmy?

Alan: We sadly don’t have much in way of buff abilities besides things like Oxy Barrier which provide you with a protective bubble and allow you to breathe underwater or other abilities like Time Paradox and Shadow Cloak. You do get a Well Rested buff though from sleeping at the inn though and the buff comes at various tiers.

Can you bind them (abilities) to the row of number keys on PC?

Alan: We're using Rewired for Unity to support keybinding and a variety of controllers (here's a list) so you should be able to rebind controls to any key you wish on a desktop keyboard.

Rob: Controllers may be more limited for keybinding in comparison, however.

AreYouSmarterThanACheeseGrater asked:

So, how are you going to work sleeping? Will time advance a set number of hours or will time progress to the next morning/evening?

Alan: Here’s an excerpt from our design document to easily explain how sleeping works.

Take note, costs are subject to change but sleeping in specific beds advances time by a set amount and you get better rest in a shorter amount of time from the more expensive rooms at the inn (to be fully rested and free from fatigue for a day in just two hours would be amazing). You do have the option to be cheap and just sleep in your own bed but you use up more time in a day.

Downing energy drinks is a way to stay awake without having to sleep but you can only carry so much and it won't fully restore your fatigue and you'll eventually find yourself sleeping on the ground, helpless against any threats around you.

shadowreaper5 asked: Are you still looking for help? I can't draw or code, but if you need someone to poke every corner for bugs I'm your man

We'll put out a public call for assistants when there's nothing else left but the art polish push, there's a bit of design polish that Rob and I still have to work on here and there but when the backgrounds and pixel tracing are all that's left, we're hoping we get many applicants that're willing to stick through.

As for poking every corner for bugs, I've currently given 13 members on the Backer Discord @tester status. Having them on Discord will help us all communicate as they run the builds. I expect we're going to have a few questions of why the game won't start when loading a save (recurring bug that happened in old builds regarding data from a previous build being kept in the %appdata% folder on Windows systems and conflicting with the new build)

Does your [insert magic equivalent here] regenerate quicker if you sleep in a bed/inn?

Alan: In our aim to nail down the fun factor without sacrificing too much of the original vision, we decided to make EP regenerate automatically.

You should see it in action in this older stress test video that Rob shared on the Discord server.

youtube

As you can see, the blue meter to the lower left goes down each time Esmy uses a skill. The meter is actually comprised of a number of cells but displays as a meter, the cell count is shown to the right of the meter as EP <number>. Each ability eats a number of cells, i.e. an ability like Ignite Lv1 costs = 1 cell but Shadow Cloak of any level will use = 4 cells. A channeled ability like Boulder Dash will eat up a cell every second.

Cells can be increased by finding certain collectibles in the game.

Rob: You can also see in the video above that even in-editor, the game runs pretty smoothly (60FPS+) with 8 monsters and numerous adds it summons.

Alan: I've personally tried it on my own PC with a 1GB video card from 7 years ago and it runs fine in-editor and runs even better on a compiled build.

lemon-rev asked: With your post regarding the update, I can now fully understand why the game looks at is base level, playtime on each of those levels sounds great, but are they leveling, completing quests, just beating up mobs, I am sure each of those other sections that have to be redone for unity as well as the type of content for each one.

Some context is necessary here for the non-backers reading this. During the previous backer update, I mentioned the listed completion times we got for each dungeon when we had testers run through it, here are those numbers...

Northern Caverns v1 Build: 20-30 minutes

Rime Rapids v1 Build: 30-40 minutes

Molten Mountain v1 Build: 30-40 minutes

Terrestrial Woods v1 Build: 40-60 minutes

Vale of Gale v1 Build: 40-60 minutes

Sunken Ship v2 Build: 40-120 minutes

Mekanika v2 Build: 40-120 minutes

Phantom Marshes v2 Build: 40-120 minutes

The v1 builds were before I ran a level design revamp over the layouts so those numbers can go up. All in all though, that's currently around 4.6 hours worth of dungeon crawling (and there's one dungeon unaccounted for still).

With that bit of context given, to fully answer lemon-rev's question, take note, these are all approximate numbers as there was a guide provided for the publisher testers to consult and these numbers also DO NOT include boss fights, cutscenes or enemy ambushes. There's also the time required to head out into the overworld and look for and access those dungeons so we estimate that we could hit 12 hours at the very least of regular gameplay without completing any sidequests and hopefully 16-18 hours if you try to 100% the whole game.

sky asked: Is Linux still planned?

Yes! This is also why we're going to have to reach out to our backers for testing assistance as we've only been able to test on PC and Mac so far and do not have much if any Linux testbeds.

We've had a number of people on the Discord server that I've tagged as willing testers and we look forward to working with them soon!

CONTINUED IN PART 2

9 notes · View notes

writesandramblings · 7 years

Text

The Captain’s Secret - p.31

“Nemo Sum Game”

A/N: In my sleep-deprived state I accidentally splinched a few paragraphs that were supposed to be in the previous chapter from the draft, so if you read it when it was first posted, go back a chapter and Ctrl-F "family" for the missing section.

Title is a triple play on words: nemo sum, Latin for "I am no one"; a zero-sum game is a situation in which each participants gain or loss is exactly balanced by the gain or loss of the other participants; Captain Nemo was the commander of the Nautilus.

Additionally, worth noting that adult content does exist for this chapter and several other recent ones (Serot, more Billingsley, Sollis, and Sollis and Caxus), but I'm currently still in such a rush that I'm skipping writing it to try and get the Buran section of the story wrapped up before this Sunday's episode. I promise I'll indicate when this content is ready and available, and then you'll be able to find out the exact details of how that alarm got tripped, if you're so inclined!

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 30 - Exit Strategy 32 - Home >>

When he arrived, her head was poking out of the vat and she was blue again, chatting merrily away with Yoon. For a moment, he was very happy, and then almost instantly he was very, very angry. She did not need to ask to know what he was feeling, because never had anything ever been more clearly written on his face.

He crossed over to the vat in three long strides, elbowed Yoon aside, reached his hands in, grabbed Lalana, and pulled her halfway out. Biomimetic gel clung to her like putty. It felt like partially-congealed pudding under his fingers. He shook her.

"What the hell were you thinking!"

She let out a soft trill, the sound usually associated with alarm or surprise.

"Captain!" said Yoon, grabbing hold of his arm.

"Stay out of this," he snapped at Yoon, then resumed shouting at Lalana. "You were free to go anywhere, do anything! An entire universe of stars to run to and you came back to the one place you're not supposed to be! What the hell, Lalana!"

She trilled again. This was not an adequate level of communication.

"What!"

"Samaritan asked for my help."

Lorca looked at Lalana in utter disgust. "You do not get to blame this on Dr. Li. Don't you dare. I see exactly what you're doing. And if you think I'm going to fall for one of your cleverly-crafted 'repurposed truths'—"

She covered her face with her tail and began knocking her hands together.

"I'm not falling for that, either!" he exclaimed, face contorted with fury.

Yoon was aghast. "Captain!"

"Don't give me that look, lieutenant. This is the lului equivalent of crocodile tears." It wasn't, but it might as well have been.

Thankfully the translators were on full idiomatic settings, not the lower, more literal threshold Lalana preferred, and she understood his meaning perfectly. She squirmed in his hands. Her fur actively pushed back against his fingers. "I'm not lying! She said she needed my help to save Starfleet! I thought I could return the favor and save your people like you saved mine!"

"Save us from what?" Yoon ventured, eager to try and extricate Lalana from what she felt was an unjustified interrogation.

Lorca rolled his eyes and let out a low groaning growl. It was impossible to explain without dropping into a tone that bordered on levity. "Dr. Li is convinced Starfleet is being run by an illuminati shadow cabal."

"What?" went Yoon. From her perspective, this conversation just kept getting weirder and weirder.

"Exactly." Lorca returned his attention to Lalana. Bits of gooey gel were dripping down the outside of the vat. "You fell for that load of crap?"

Lalana's hands stopped tapping and her tail slid up. "So it is not true?"

"Of course it's not true! It's a goddamn conspiracy theory! Crazy people make them up!"

"Why?"

"Because they're crazy!"

Yoon immediately tried to jump to Lalana's defense again. "You can't blame her for not knowing that! How could she know that?"

Lorca looked at Yoon with something akin to wryness. "She could have asked. You like asking questions, don't you, Lalana? What does this mean? Why do humans do that?" The level of mocking derision in his voice bordered on comical. Then he dropped back into anger. "And yet, when Li spins you some yarn about a shadow government, you don't think to ask anyone? That just sounded perfectly right as rain to you?" Cornwell had clearly been right about the dangers of letting Lalana loose into the galaxy.

"She said I could not tell you. Any one of you might secretly be section agents."

"Oh my god," said Yoon, realizing how deep this delusion went. The assistant doctor hadn't just been crazy, she needed serious medical intervention.

"But Gabriel," Lalana continued, "I do not think Samaritan was lying."

"Just because Li believes it doesn't make it true." His arms were beginning to hurt. She probably weighed ninety pounds with all the goo on her. He was going to have to put her down or bring her closer towards him fairly soon or the choice would be made for him.

"Then I will find proof," she said.

"You can't prove something that's not true."

"If I do, then you will forgive Samaritan and forgive me, too."

His arms began to tremble faintly from the strain. Lorca closed his eyes. When he opened them, he had made his decision. Despite the fact she was covered in gel, he drew her close against his shoulder and lifted her free from the vat. He did not release her immediately. "When you put yourself in danger on this ship, it's my responsibility. I don't want to lose anyone else."

For over a month now, Lorca had been operating under the self-imposed delusion Walter Chen's death did not affect him, that he was somehow above the grief and melancholy and doubt of it all. He was not. Morita had made the choice that sent Chen on that mission because Chen had asked to go, but Lorca had signed off on it, and he knew Chen's service record. He knew the service records of everyone on the crew. While there was no one single point of blame, he was the ultimate bearer of responsibility for events on his ship.

Lalana vibrated the gel off the end of her tail into the vat and then put her tail onto his head so the filaments stroked through his hair. Feeling like an interloper, Yoon made her way into the bathroom, the only place she could go.

"How did you even get back on the goddamn ship," he whispered.

"A private shuttle charter flight." There had been a few of those; people avoiding the transporter queue in favor of a trip with a view.

He sighed. She was gooey, but for once, because of the heated nature of the vat, she was warm. "I don't know what to do with you."

"Can you take me to the shower? I am dripping on the floor."

With a short, involuntary laugh, he did as asked.

"You do understand," she said once she was in the shower, "that I was merely in a state of suspension and not going to die? It is possible to survive in suspension for many years."

"Maybe if you and Li had actually gotten some goddamn oversight instead of sneaking around like a pair of bandits, that would have been clear to someone beside you!" He turned the water on, full blast, hot, and then assessed the state of his uniform in the mirror, which was not looking good. He made a face as he scraped the biomimetic gel from his neck.

"Allow me, captain," said Yoon, giving him a washcloth and using a second one to assist in removing some of the goo from his tunic.

Lalana stepped out of the shower, dry as a bone. "But we could not include anyone in case the section found out."

"I don't want to hear another word about that shadow cabal," he said. It sounded like a threat.

"Very well, but I will prove that they exist."

Lorca groaned loudly and leaned his hands against the vanity counter. "You are not investigating an imaginary shadow cabal in Starfleet. Do you hear me? That's an order."

"Then do I still have my commission as ensign?"

He'd forgotten about that particular joke. "If it'll get you to do what I say for once, then fine."

"Then, aye, sir."

It was something, at least. "Right. I'm going to change. Ensign, you are not to leave these quarters until I say so. Understood?"

"Aye, sir!" At least she liked this little game and seemed eager to play along at being a member of Starfleet. They'd see how long that enthusiasm lasted when she realized the order was sincere.

Six weeks left until decommission.

Given the fact they had already made one unusual stop, Lorca decided it was too much a risk to make another. Someone might begin to suspect something was up. Certainly if reports of a lului suddenly surfaced at the Triton's unscheduled stop, someone would put two and two together. Lalana would be spending the remaining six weeks of the Triton's service life confined to two small rooms until such a time as they could sneak her off with the cargo at Spacedock.

This did not bother her. "I do miss hydroponics, but it is very nice in here. There are many stars outside the window, and a great quantity of music I have not yet listened to."

He scrupulously avoided going to Morita and Yoon's quarters to arouse any further suspicion and kept his contact with Lalana to the comms in his ready room and quarters. He could almost pretend she was somewhere else, on someone else's ship, and not an ongoing issue he was going to have to deal with.

Absent any other meaningful entertainment, she queried him as to the events of his day, listened to any complaints, and offered her own pithy, fortune-worthy insights, like "even a captain cannot always control the crew that he commands" and "the ground is an ocean you can walk upon."

Unloading his day on her was fun. She stood completely outside Starfleet's command structure, had immense patience, and never once suggested anything he talked about was unimportant in the grand scheme of things, even when sometimes it was. About the worst thing he could accuse her of was occasionally providing too much of an echo chamber. She sometimes provided an alternate perspective in a gently supportive manner, but more often she seemed to want to try to see things from his perspective and support his views on any given topic.

With one exception. She remained determined to investigate Li's insane theory. He did his best to warn her off it. "You can get into real trouble if you start sticking your nose into Starfleet's business. I'm serious, Lalana. They could have you arrested."

"Ah, like Venel and Egarell? For how long?"

He threw a number out. "Eighty years!"

"That is not so bad."

He stood there for several moments, staring into space with his hands in the air in confusion, wondering what precisely it took to get her to take any part of this seriously. "Eight hundred years?" he tried.

"Now that is something more approaching a punitive length of time!" she clicked at him.

She was not taking it seriously at all. "They'll send you back to Luluan."

She went quiet. Then, "That is not funny."

"My point exactly. Take this seriously."

Finally, she said, "I will not look into it because it seems to upset you that I would. Will that suffice?"

"That'll do very nicely. You promise?" There was silence. His voice dropped into a warning tone. "Lalana."

"I cannot promise not to look into it forever, but, for as long as it concerns you, I will not."

That seemed to be as much guarantee as he was going to get. Fair enough. He couldn't stop her wasting her time or getting into trouble her entire life, not given the length of it. At some point, he'd be dead.

On the one hand, her almost constant irreverence surely constituted some form of character flaw, but on the other, more often than not their conversations ended up in laughter.

"You are the worst," he said to her late one night, after she attempted a series of rather juvenile knock-knock jokes she had apparently gotten from the ship's databanks.

"And you are the best, which balances out quite nicely."

He quietly smiled to himself, glad she could not see his face, and retorted, "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"But flattery and a starship can take you very far!" He couldn't decide whether to laugh or groan at that, so he did both.

They were ten days out from D-Day, which was what the crew had taken to calling their pending release from the dingy old halls of the Triton, when he walked into his quarters and discovered Lalana sitting in the middle of his bed. He slammed his fist to lock the door behind him. "How did you get in here!"

"Da Hee and Reiko would like some time to themselves now, so I thought I could stay the night with you. Do not worry, no one saw me arrive."

He smeared a hand across his face. "That's not what I mean. This door was locked. Did Morita..."

"Einar helped me."

Ten days left in his commission. The Swede had a funny idea of how best to leave a lasting impression. It was clever, though. What was Lorca going to do, throw him in the brig for ten days for breaking into the captain's quarters? People would ask why. Lorca didn't want people asking questions.

He contemplated calling Morita and Yoon to come pick Lalana up, but that seemed a little cruel, given that they'd been hosting Lalana in their quarters for two months and probably deserved that alone time. It didn't add up, though. Morita would have asked him before pawning Lalana off. "Where does Reiko think you are?"

"With Dr. Ek'Ez."

"And Ek'Ez thinks you're with..."

"Einar."

"Then you can go back to Einar's quarters."

"Nnnnnn," she went. "But I do not want to go to Einar's quarters. I want to stay with you. I will repurpose a truth if it will help. Come, tell me about your day."

He crossed his arms and shook his head. "You're more trouble than you're worth."

"I think you'll find that's not the case, if you'll come join me."

The comms beeped. "Benford to captain."

"Stop, stop!" went Lorca, sitting up and gasping for breath. "Captain here."

"Is... is everything all right, captain? There was a report of screaming from your quarters?"

Quarters were supposed to provide noise isolation for privacy. It was likely they had tripped an internal monitoring alarm. Lorca bit down on his fist and hastily collected himself. "Nope, I'm fine, Jack, everything's fine."

Lalana stuck her tongue out and flattened it against her eye to keep from laughing.

"...Are you sure, sir?"

"I'll try not to make so much noise. Lorca out."

Lorca and Lalana sat shock still. Then they burst into laughter, a fearsome combination of clicks and deep, booming guffaws. "I can't, I just can't. How did you even think to do that?"

"Sollis explained the biology and standard techniques, and then it was a simple matter to figure out how to lelulallen the right cells." He was never going to view lelulallen quite the same.

"Sollis?"

"Yes, we speak every day."

Lorca blinked several times and then flopped back onto the bed. He had not realized Lalana was talking to other people over the comms. "Remind me to send her a fruit basket." He chuckled some more.

"And how did that compare to Billingsley?"

"That wasn't even on the same planet."

"How could it be? We are on a starship."

Lorca batted her lightly with his hand in admonishment. "I need a shower."

When he returned, damp and mostly recovered, he found her poking around the bedroom, opening the storage areas built into the walls. "What do you think you're doing?"

Another human would have jumped or reacted in some way reflecting the fact they had been caught snooping, but Lalana did not have the same understanding of private space and failed to register any wrongdoing. "I am learning all of your items."

"Learning them, or licking them?" he shot back.

She trilled her tongue at him. "I have learned now not to lick things around humans! But yes, I did lick a few. This looked like it had been alive, but tasted wrong." She pointed her tail at a pair of leather shoes. They were synthetic, of course.

There wasn't really anything overly incriminating in his quarters (and certainly she was the last one to pass judgment on anything, being largely ignorant of human social mores), so he let her rummage, answering questions periodically, until she made her way back around to the bed. "And I was wondering about this book." It was his copy of Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. "Why do you keep it next to your bed?"

"Well, this, this isn't just a book. I know you thinks books are flat and not worth your time, but, come here. Maybe this one'll surprise you." She hopped up onto the bed beside him. He picked up the book, the worn texture of its cover a familiar comfort, lay down, and opened it to the first page exactly. "Chapter one, A Floating Reef. In the year 1866 the whole maritime population of Europe and America was excited by an inexplicable phenomenon..." Lalana curled up contentedly besides him and they were soon aboard the Abraham Lincoln with Pierre Aronnax, Conseil, and Ned Land.

Morita looked over the nightly security logs. Stress alarm triggered in the captain's quarters? She cleared her throat, signaling Lorca to come to the security console, and pointed to the log. "Dare I even ask?"

"No, you may not," said Lorca, reaching past her and deleting the offending record from the system.

Part 32

#Star Trek Discovery #fanfic #fanfiction #Captain Lorca #Gabriel Lorca #Did you really think there was a single female in this story he wouldn't sleep with

0 notes